


In the Name of Peace

by ShadowstarKanada



Series: Fathers and clones [1]
Category: Metal Gear
Genre: M/M, Military Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-08-04
Updated: 2003-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:00:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 39,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23720086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowstarKanada/pseuds/ShadowstarKanada
Summary: When Otacon recieves an anonymous tip about his father, more than just family ties are revealed.
Relationships: Otacon/Solid Snake
Series: Fathers and clones [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1708468
Kudos: 5





	1. The Enola Gay

**Author's Note:**

> This was written before MGS3. As such, lots of canon no longer works with it.

Snake ducked behind a tree and surveyed the building. Security was tighter than Otacon had led him to believe, but that couldn't be helped. Being inside a secure complex was generally not the best way for a techie to determine security levels.

Snake crouched down. Time to make sure Otacon was still alive. [How are you holding up?] Snake asked quietly through the Codec. Burst transmissions were generally not susceptible to outside monitoring, but the quality was low grade, especially with what Otacon had access to right now.

[Snake?] The younger man didn't sound scared anymore, just tired. Signs like that didn't bode well for the success of the mission. [I'm still here...]

[Have you told them anything?]

[No... I don't think so...]

[Are you drugged?]

[Yeah.]

Snake nodded. They wanted information, but at the moment they weren't using torture. Which meant that they either wanted Otacon doing something else after they were done with him, or they were using him as bait to get Snake. Either way, it looked bad, especially since he was going in blind.

[It may take me a while to get in,] Snake noted. [There are a lot of guards here, and a lot of lights.]

[I think they have a guard change soon...] Otacon said tentatively. Snake peeked out at the guards again, binoculars closing in on a few of the guards who had started talking to each other.

[They don't seem to be too careful. I'll probably be able to use that opportunity.] Snake looked for an entrance. There were some vents on the ground, though they were all covered. An electrified fence and gate combination closed off the front entrance. There were some barred windows scattered around the complex but they weren't going to be much help. They had designed the place so that it had natural walls: the front was the only way to get in without a 50 foot drop onto spikes. The place must have been carved out of the mountain. [Did you see any entrances when you were brought in?]

[No. I couldn't see much of anything. There was a blindfold... I could see a little bit, but I... Sorry, Snake...]

[Don't worry about it, Otacon.] Two guards at the front gate, but if he took them out, the search lights would catch it in short order. No, it had to be through the vents. If only whoever ran the prison didn't have the foresight to cut down all the trees and shrubbery within a 20 foot radius of the prison walls...

[They're coming back, I hear them outside the door.]

[All right. I'll see you soon.] Snake closed down the CODEC communication line and focused on watching the patterns of the searchlights. They were fairly predictable, but there was one running the length of the wall at all times. He would have to get the grating off fast.

Snake frowned and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it before taking a long drag. He threw it down and watched the guards again. There was no point in waiting any longer. New guards might just change the pattern of the lights. Snake crept out of the shadows and waited for his chance.

He dodged the first light and waited for the second to go by, then ran to his chosen vent. He pulled out a small screwdriver and quickly got two of the screws out before backing up to let the third searchlight pass by the wall, then went back for the last two screws. Holding the vent cover close, he quickly got into the newly created hole and placed the cover near the entrance. He paused as he watched the searchlight continue past the vent and breathed a sigh of relief. If they noticed anything wrong, he had no doubt that this particular governmental organization would not hesitate to hurt his rather less pain-resistant partner.

Snake crawled through the gritty vent, careful not to make noise as he went. The vent was something of a maze, with twisted passageways and dead ends everywhere he went. It seemed that the vents were connected to offices. Most likely, the prison proper had its own separate ventilation system. Finally, Snake got to an unoccupied office. It looked as though it hadn't been opened for years: there was dust all over the desk and floor, and no tell-tale signs of dirt being either more or less by the door.

Snake kicked the vent and heard it clatter down to the floor, then pulled himself backwards in case anyone had heard the noise. He waited for a few minutes, then relaxed. As he'd suspected, no one was traveling these hallways late at night. He pulled himself out into the room, then walked to the door and listened.

Nothing. Snake nodded and opened the door, peeking through into the hallway. Still nothing. Good. The door had no name on it, so Snake pulled out the screwdriver and scratched a small mark into the wood beside the handle of the door. This way, he'd know which office to drag Otacon through.

Snake closed the door carefully behind him, then backed up against the wall and began sneaking through the complex. This building seemed devoid of guards, and Snake soon found himself rather carelessly walking around the place, listening for the faint sounds of walking guards, or the slight clicking of a security camera.

There was nothing though. Snake opened the door to leave the building carefully, looking through the cracks he'd made to ensure there was no one around. There was no one visible, but he could hear faint breathing. Someone was positioned just outside the door. He would have to take this person out, or it would complicate things when getting his drugged partner out of the complex.

Snake closed the door again, careful to keep it from clicking. There would have to be a bathroom around here for the prison workers, which meant a mirror. He quickly searched and found what he needed. Breaking the mirror and taking the largest shard was simple, and he returned to the door. Snake opened it slightly again, then used the mirror to look around. Good, just the one guard.

Snake put the shard in a pocket, counted to three, then abruptly sent the door swinging open. The guard sprawled down and turned over, alerted to Snake's presence, but Snake had the element of surprise. Snake shoved a gun in the guard's face, then picked the man up by his collar and dragged him inside, shoving him against a wall.

"Who's running this facility?" Snake's voice was gruff, and the man stared at the gun in his face. "Tell me, now!" The man continued to stare blankly, and Snake scowled. Just his luck that the man didn't speak english.

Snake bashed the man against the wall to disorient him, then turned him around and hit him with the base of his pistol. That done, Snake took the man's uniform and put it on. He used the guard's underwear to tie him up and stuffed him in the bathroom, feet dangling slightly off the ground after he'd been hung on the coat rack. With any luck, the man would stay unconscious, but even without luck he should be unable to sound the alarm now.

Time to call his partner again, if Otacon was even able to receive. [Otacon, are you there?]

[Snake...? Snake where are you...?]

[That's what we asked YOU, Hal.]

Shit. They knew his name. I really should have figured that. They had found him somehow, but I was almost hoping it had been by tracking CODEC calls. On the bright side, of course, this would just mean they would need to change identities.

[Do you know where you are, Otacon?] Snake hoped that Hal would be able to at least tell him that, even if he couldn't answer much.

[No... no more questions, please...] Hal sounded out of it. Snake shook his head. This was no good. He'd leave the CODEC on to monitor the situation though. It was a little bit dangerous, but they couldn't have broken into the CODEC frequencies or they'd already know that Snake was in the prison.

[You'll have to wait a little longer, Otacon. I'm inside, but I don't know where you are.] Snake looked out. [There are a lot of buildings here, Otacon.]

[Building C...]

[That's where WE are, you little...]

Snake winced as he heard Hal's interrogators slap him. Hal probably hadn't felt it much though; there was a quiet 'ouch,' but that was all. Snake looked out. Building C? Which one was that? He didn't see one labeled C, so he looked up, smirking as he saw the sign above him. This was building C. He looked up and saw windows above him.

There had to be stairs somewhere.

[Upstairs or downstairs?]

[I don't... I don't know...]

There was noise coming from the other side of the CODEC transmission, but Snake couldn't make out the words. He had to hurry up. There had to be stairs behind one of these doors. He hadn't seen any emergency stairs though, nor was there an elevator. He'd have to check each door manually.

[We didn't want to do this, Hal,] said Hal's interrogator. [But really, you force us to. Your little organization is costing us time, men... It needs to be stopped. You know that, don't you, Hal? Of course you understand that. I'll ask you again, where is your partner?]

[Building C...]

[Now, now, we don't tolerate lies here.] Snake had to hurry up. The interrogator sounded like he was ready to up the ante. It was just a good thing that Hal must have said enough lies that the man didn't recognize the truth anymore.

When Snake found the stairs, he was more than a little surprised to find only one guard. He took the man out quickly, cold cocking him and dragging him into the bathroom. But downstairs or upstairs?

[This is a really simple instrument, Hal. Just a nice hot poker. It won't hurt too much. You're a scientist, right? You can tell me where he is, what mission he is on, or we can... experiment and see how much this hurts you.]

Snake grit his teeth. Hal did not deserve this. Hal was not accustomed to this either. [I... I... I don't know... where he is right now...] There was a yelp of pain through the CODEC and wafting up from downstairs. He shut the communication line down. Snake could not afford to be distracted or rushed, or both of them would be captured.

Snake ran down the stairs, opening the door, crack by crack. Three guards. He knocked each of them out with a quick dart from his M9, not wanting to waste any more time. The tranquilizer darts would be easily noticed if anyone came by and woke the guards, but right now, speed was of the essence.

There was another yelp of pain, and Snake moved quickly to where it came from. A barred door. Snake looked through the door, and saw that there was only the one interrogator inside. He had a radio. Snake pushed his modified gun through the grate and plugged the radio, then the man. He pulled on the door.

Locked. From the inside as well as the outside.

"Damn it, Otacon, can you get up?"

"N... no... Snake..."

Fine. Just wonderful. Snake pulled out the screwdriver again. It was lucky that this was not one of the new electronically controlled doors, or he really would be screwed. Snake pried the pins out of the hinge, then kicked the door in.

Hal was tied onto a table, so Snake made quick work of that before asking his partner if he could get up.

Hal stood shakily. It was fairly obvious that the programmer/engineer wouldn't be able to run, but he would be able to walk. "Let's go."

The two of them walked out, up the stairs and into the room with the vent. Snake had managed to push Hal into the vent system before they heard the alarm go off. The blaring noise made Snake more than a little nervous, and he got in, ignoring the vent on the ground. He pushed Hal as much as he could, but he could tell the other man was quickly tiring.

There were noises in the vent behind them. Snake stopped and turned, plugging the first two to come down. That would slow them at least. He caught up to Otacon quickly, and they reached the end. The outside was crawling with guards. Hal was not going to be able to get through on his own.

The lights were moving double time against the wall. "Stay here," said Snake quietly. "I'm going to take out some of the guards. When the lights are all out, come out of the vent and get into the forest as fast as you can. Got it?"

Otacon nodded, his face almost white. Snake paused, listening for anyone coming down through the vents. "I don't think there's anyone else in here, but if you hear someone, call me via CODEC and get out." Otacon nodded again.

Snake waited for the light to go by again, then quickly left the vent and ran out of range of the light. He hit some of the guards with darts, then turned and hit one on a tower. Next, he ran as far from the vent as he could. If they found out where he was shooting from, it had to be as far from Otacon as possible. He got the lights in four quick shots and could just barely make out Otacon leaving the ventilation system and moving in a fast walk toward the edge of the wooded area. He covered the other man as guards started pouring out of the facility, running towards Otacon as he did.

Once he reached Hal, Snake grabbed his hand and pulled him to the motorbike he'd left here, started it up, and put Hal on the back. "Hang on!" Snake barked out at Otacon. Otacon's arms went around his waist and Snake took off.


	2. Oak Ridge

For Hal, the next two days were a misery of confusing hallucinations alternating with brief headache ridden lucidity. When he was properly awake, Dave would sit beside him and try to have him eat and drink while trying to talk about the questions Hal had been asked. While he was out, Hal couldn't have said _what_ Dave was doing.

He remembered waking one night to stars above him while Dave sat cursing his lighter. But then, whether that was real or not, Hal couldn't have guessed. Another time, he dreamed that he and Dave were in a room somewhere with mirrors for walls, and Meryl had walked in. She'd broken all the mirrors in the room before shattering Dave into a thousand pieces and leaving. Yet another time, Hal had seen the cramped quarters of the baggage part of a plane, filled with parcels. He and Dave were lying in a box, or rather, he was lying there while Dave sat with his eyes wide open. Dave had given him some animal cookies.

In some ways, that last one had been more frightening than when he awoke to see Emma and Meryl having an intimate kiss while Vamp shoved a blade through their hearts.

When Hal finally woke properly, the two of them were in a car on a deserted stretch of highway in the middle of what appeared to be a sandy expanse of desert. The sun was shining, making the sand glow white around the car, and the air conditioning in the car, though on at full blast, was barely keeping the car tolerable.

"Dave? What's going on?"

"Awake again? Here," Dave's arm went into the back of the car and pulled a bottle of water to the front, pressing it into Hal's hands. "Drink this. As for explanations, you'll just have to wait until I know you're not going back out."

Hal shook his head, testing the headache. He didn't feel the throbbing that had been present before. Hal took a sip of the water, then realized just how thirsty he was and drank the rest of it without a pause.

Hal looked out the window again and sighed. No lights, no signs telling about exits coming up... "I bet there's no cyber cafe around here," he said. "But tell me I've got a laptop and a cell phone?"

Dave gave a half grin as he glanced at Hal. "I brought along a coffee maker and a car adaptor. If you can hook them together, you'll even be able to have some coffee."

Hal laughed. "Hey, great! I feel like I haven't had coffee in a week!"

"It _has_ been a week, Hal," said Dave, suddenly serious. "Do you think you can tell me what happened?"

Hal leaned his head back and closed his eyes against the bright sun. "I'm not sure. The last thing I was researching... I mean, it didn't seem to have anything to do with anything except the location."

Hal paused. He hadn't been able to get much information at all. It had all been very securely protected, apparently by someone who was an ex-hacker.

"So where is it?"

"South Africa. Somewhere called Galzburg." Dave hissed, and Hal turned to look at him. "What?"

Snake shook his head. "Nothing. What were you researching?"

"I got a tip."

"Metal Gear?"

"Not... not exactly." Hal felt the blood rushing to his face. "Someone emailed me about my father, and pointed me to a number of highly classified intelligence databases. I hacked one of them, and he was on a list of names."

"Connected to Galzburg?"

"Yeah. But I couldn't find the place on a map, even the historical ones on the net. And when I tried looking for it on the same database I got the list of names from, someone had plugged up everything... I can only guess that someone must have been hacking into my system at the same time, because it was the next day that..." Hal stopped. "Um. I'm- I'm sorry about all this, Dave. I just can't resist these things..."

"Anonymous tips." Dave shook his head. "It was probably just made up. Someone probably hacked in there before you did and put everything in place for you to find it. Then military intelligence caught it and protected their systems more carefully."

Hal raised an eyebrow. "You think I don't know the difference between real data and fake? Look, Snake, these things leave trails when someone modifies things, even if they're doing a great job at hiding it. I mean, it's like... If you saw some documents that had been erased and someone had rewritten on top of it, you'd still see the fact that it had been erased, right?"

Dave frowned and grumbled something. "We're not getting anywhere by arguing about it. So what kind of questions did they ask you?"

"They asked a lot about you. What you looked like, where you were, where you liked to buy cigarettes. All sorts of really strange questions. But... they also asked about Galzburg. What I knew about it, mostly. Who tipped me about the Metal Gear there..." Hal shrugged with a touch of false modestly. "I was trying to get some information at first, so I tried to fake them out, tell them things that might be true to get them to reveal things from their questions. I saw it in an anime once." He smiled.

"Life isn't a cartoon," Dave said, throwing a hard glance at Hal. Hal sighed and rolled his eyes. "Still, intel is intel. As long as we can confirm it, we can send it over to the chapter in South Africa."

"And tell them what? I don't know where Galzburg is. I'm not just handing this over to them."

"We have enough Metal Gear to take care of right here in North America. We don't need to go there."

Something about that sounded wrong. Dave wasn't talking about finding the place, he was talking about going there. "You know where this place is..."

Dave grimaced. "Yeah, I do. And I know you're not going to get any information on your father there. Even if it were the truth, Outer Heaven is long gone."

"Outer Heaven...? Isn't that the one you told me about where-"

"Yeah. Fires destroyed the place. Send the information to the African contacts, and make sure you tell them how you got this intel. They'll need to be prepared in case this is some sort of a trap."

Hal leaned back in the seat. Could his father really have participated in the Outer Heaven mercenary operation? And if he had, how and why had he lived his life in England? And what about his father's marriage? Had _she_ been a part of Outer Heaven as well?

Or had his father left the service of the Outer Heaven mercenaries and met her afterwards? The Outer Heaven mission Snake had spoken of had been in 1995: the same year his father had died. But even if his father had worked for them, it wouldn't necessarily have been related. His father had killed himself in the backyard, not been attacked by Solid Snake in some foreign country.

"Dave, what kind of person would hack into databases to put in information about my father working there...?"

"One who wants you to question yourself," said Snake instantly. "You know how your father died, and it had nothing to do with Outer Heaven. You know how your father lived, and it had nothing to do with Outer Heaven."

"But what if it did? What if there's even more to my family's past than I think? What if my family is responsible for even more bloodshed and violence?"

Dave was quiet for a moment, watching the road and thinking. "Does it matter? What you're doing now is paying the world back for what your family did. Could you try harder if you knew your father was part of the Metal Gear development at Outer Heaven?"

"I... Maybe it doesn't really matter. I mean, no, it wouldn't change anything. But I can't just let it lie, Dave. It's my family."

He was quiet again. After a few minutes of waiting for him to talk, Hal turned around in his seat and got another bottle of water. He held it in front of the vents for a moment, hoping to cool it a bit, then opened it and poured it down his throat.

"Do you know how unlikely it is? They had Dr. Petrovich. They kept him there by force to create the Metal Gears they had." Dave shook his head. "It's a trap, not information about your father."

Hal looked out the window to the blazing sand. The whole landscape was on fire, the sun creating a fusion bomb's blast in the sky. The crystal blue sky was only an illusion: there was no peace, no water in this place. The sky was burning! "Even if it's a trap..."

This landscape was the world, barren and lifeless and burning from the monstrosity of a bomb that altered matter itself... this world of nuclear and fusion that he and his grandfather had both helped to bring into existence. And his father, the one Hal had thought immune except for birthright... "I have to know, Dave. I have to know why his name was on that list. I have to know it for sure."

An uncomfortable silence descended upon them, and Hal embraced it. This silence, uncomfortable though it might be, left him alone. No past, no family to be ashamed of, just Hal and his thoughts existed here. He closed his eyes to block out the bomb in the sky, but the sun was too strong to shut his eyes against.

"The past is like the sun, Dave. Even if I close my eyes, I know it's there. It comes in through the cracks until I have no choice but to open my eyes. Don't make me do it on my own."

Dave sighed. "I thought I was the philosophical one."

"We're both like that. We're pretty much alike, you know."

Dave smiled a softer smile than he usually gave. "I know, Hal."

"Say yes..."

"I'll regret it."

"Say yes anyway."

Dave glanced briefly at Hal, a worried look on his face. "I haven't abandoned you this far. I won't abandon you now. Better with me than by yourself."

"Thanks, Dave."

Dave smiled again, a real smile even though it was tinged with worry. "Well, with that out of the way, you've got some work to do first. We need new identities, since they've made the old ones. Then we'll need to get in contact with people in Philanthropy."

"I'll contact the Africans. I'll ask them to see if they can do some reconnaissance, if you'll give me the exact coordinates of the place."

'If I can remember them. We'll see."

"Where are we going, anyway?"

Dave gave Hal a smirk. "We're in California now. We're going up to Canada."

"Canada? But it's freezing up there!"

"Naw. It's summertime." Hal turned off the air conditioner. "What do you think you're doing, Hal?"

"Getting all the heat I can. You think a snowy day is warm."

"It is warm."

Hal leaned back as Dave turned the air conditioning back on. "You're hopeless."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did I get 1995 as the year that Hal's dad died? On several websites, it says that Emma is 18-20 during the Plant mission. The plant mission is in 2009. So Emma would be 6 years old between 1993-1995 period. Hal's dad died when she was around 6.


	3. Positive Void Coefficient

Dave looked at the recon photos again. According to the info from the satellites, there was nothing around Galzburg for over 500 miles but tiny little villages. The infrared satellite scans were no better: either the place had been dug deeper than anything he could think of, or there were no tunnels where Outer Heaven had been that hadn't collapsed.

The Africans hadn't found a damned thing on the mission Hal had asked them to take. It was just as he'd thought in the first place: a trap meant to take out the most skilled of Philanthropy's teams. Too much had gone into making this personal for Hal for it to be anything else.

Hal refused to see it though. He was insisting on looking at this further. Dave wasn't going to let his friend and blood-brother be destroyed by it though. For that reason alone, Dave was going to give Hal whatever support he needed.

Against his better judgment, as he would have been quick to add.

There had to be a way to convince Hal that the information was bogus, but damned if Dave could figure out what to say to him. He'd never been that good with the whole concept of worrying about one's family to one's own detriment.

Unfortunately, the whole thing was already having effects on Hal. He'd already had to slip sleeping pills into a cup of decaffeinated coffee just to get his partner to take a few hours of sleep.

Dave glanced over at Hal, who was excitedly printing something out. Probably more satellite telemetry for him to look at. Dave leaned back in his chair.

"The same guy who sent me the tip! I thought I was dead in the water, and then I got this...!"

"I see." Dave frowned. They were being strung along, and there was nothing he could say to Hal about it. As Dave watched, the monitor began it's screen saver. It was different than the ones Hal usually had, which were generally revolving pictures of satellite data and checklists from missions. "Hal," said Dave after a moment of watching the computer screen turn all sorts of strange colors, "Is your monitor supposed to be doing that?"

"What?" Hal looked at the monitor for all of a half second before jumping back into his seat. "Shit! How long has this-" He started typing furiously, but whatever was happening had a head start on him, and before a minute was over, he was pushing himself away from a blackened monitor.

"Damn it."

"What just happened?" Dave got up to stare at the monitor from behind Hal.

"A virus. Real nasty one, too. I've heard of it before, but it exploits a hole the US government had the anti-virus makers put into their software and it works fast. It's a Green Lantern based virus called Yellow."

"Green Lantern? Sounds like one of your comic books."

Hal paused for a moment with a slightly peeved expression, then nodded. "Yeah, it's from a comic. It's also a virus created by the FBI in the late 90s. It was supposed to be used to spy on the computers of known criminals and suspected terrorist groups. The government had the anti-virus software companies forced to make their software so that this particular virus would remain on infected computers. That wouldn't be a problem for me, since I don't use a commercial anti-viral, but unfortunately, this left a big hole that someone managed to exploit for research on creating their own version of the perfect virus. And all they have to do now is have it mutate each time so that the rest of us can't write anything to stop it."

"So what exactly does all this mean?"

"It means," said Hal, disconnecting the computer, "that we can send this with the next garbage truck that comes around. Good thing I back up regularly..."

"So did this come with the email?"

"No, I don't think so. This kind of virus is usually in some downloaded files. I might have gotten it when I hacked in to one of the military databases. In fact," said Hal quietly, his hands stilling, "Green Lantern is trojan spyware. There have been rumors that Yellow is spyware with someone on the other end who has a trigger."

"Which means anyone could know our location and everything you've been researching?"

Hal frowned. "Location... no, I don't think so. Not with Yellow. But everything I've written on the computer..."

Dave frowned. If someone was destroying Hal's computer because he'd received some information, there was a good chance that the information wasn't entirely false. Unless of course it was to make sure they didn't stop researching a dead-end... This only muddied the waters further.

"What were you printing out before?"

"Uh... a bunch of pictures. I only glanced at them... My dad must have been in every one. One was just of him, near our home... It looked like it was only a little while before he died..." His shoulders slumped, and Dave gave him an awkward little pat on the back before grabbing the printed pages.

"Looks like only two of them came out," he said.

The first showed someone who looked like Hal, whom Snake quickly decided was Hal's father, and someone who looked like Big Boss. They were sitting in a lab. No windows, no papers visible... the two of them could have been anywhere.

Of course, "anywhere" happened to be Outer Heaven. Snake had spent enough time there to know what it looked like. He handed the picture to Hal and looked at the next.

The next one had another unmistakable location, or at least, unmistakable to someone who read the Cyrillic alphabet.

"Pripyat."

Hal looked over at Dave. "Pripyat?" he asked, confused.

Dave frowned slightly at his partner's lack of historical knowledge. "Chernobyl. More specifically, the ghost town three miles from Chernobyl."

Hal's father and Big Boss were looking at the nuclear plant, just visible in the distance. And there were people all around, which could only mean that this photo was taken before the accident.

Hal had dropped the other image and was now standing next to Dave. "You're sure?" He gave Hal a withering look. "Fine, you're sure. Is that-"

"Big Boss."

Hal blinked. "Why would they be-"

"I don't know."

"Oh." Hal looked around uncomfortably, then took a breath. "So I guess we should go-"

"Not we, me." Hal looked ready to protest. "There's still radiation there, even if some people have relocated to the original evacuation zones."

"Fine, then I'll coordi-"

"I don't need you to do that. I'll handle this on my own."

"I don't understand. What's going on?"

Dave folded the sheet of paper. "Nothing, Hal. Why don't you just get your computers fixed."

Hal frowned uncertainly for a moment, then shrugged. "I guess. Do you want me to book you a plane ticket?"

Dave nodded and walked out of the room, closing the door firmly behind him.

Deep down, he knew he shouldn't have been so hard towards Hal. Hal was trying to find answers. But now that those answers were leading towards his own origins, Dave wasn't so sure he wanted to hear the questions.

Chernobyl had been an accident according to everything he'd heard. A terrible, tragic accident. But to see the man who was, for all intents and purposes his father, standing there in the town... To see Hal's father there with him...

Of course, it was quite possible, and quite likely, that the image was completely constructed. They didn't have any original film to test, and now that Hal's computer had been destroyed, they didn't have the original digital images either.

The problem arose with the "if it wasn't" case. Had the two of them worked together? It didn't look as though Hal's father had been forced into this situation. The image brought up a lot of nasty little thoughts.

What if Chernobyl hadn't been an accident? Or what if, while it had been an accident, the two of them had something to do with it?

He pulled the picture out of his pocket and glared at it, determined to find a fault. There was Big Boss, an almost perfect likeness to Snake himself. He had the eyepatch, and was wearing the kind of clothing he had always worn... a long trenchcoat, a cane... And there was Hal's father. He had glasses. The same brown hair as Hal's, with the same stubborn part that didn't seem to go in a straight line.

In fact... that might be the flaw. The picture looked almost exactly like Hal. Oh, a little age line here, a little more thickness to the glasses there, but it was Hal.

Dave smirked. Whoever had sent this probably hadn't expected anyone to look at it very carefully. This was a doctored image.

Still, whoever had sent this wanted them to go to Outer Heaven and now, it appeared, Pripyat. And they'd somehow managed to get surveillance photos of Hal. That alone was worrying. That was enough reason to go on this mission. Whoever it was setting the snare, Dave and Hal had to flush them out.

Dave opened the door again. "Hal?"

"What?" asked Hal, with an annoyed 360 degree spin of his chair.

"I was wrong. I want the backup. I don't want you coming in to the town with me, but... Well. I think it's a trap, and I want someone at my back."

Hal kept spinning in his chair, apparently finding it a good past-time while not typing. "Gee, that makes me feel great. I can't come if you think you'll actually get some answers, but if it's a trap, it's oh, Hal, I need you?"

Dave sighed. "Fine then, don't come. I'll get someone else to back me up."

"I didn't say I'm not coming!"

Dave shook his head impatiently. "Make up your mind, Hal."

"You weren't going to get rid of me by telling me to stay here anyways. I just have to figure out how to order the tickets without using a computer."

Dave smiled, then laughed. While Hal had almost ten computers in this one room alone, Dave was just as glad that he wouldn't be ordering tickets through them. If one computer might be "spied" upon, he'd rather not risk their lives by ordering tickets on the rest.

"We can get something last minute to Russia or the Ukraine, if we can't find anything private," Hal said when Dave was finished laughing.

"Good. We should see if we can get some lead-lined boots while we're at it."

Hal nodded cautiously. "That sneaking suit should protect you to a certain extent, but if you have to go into the old reactor..."

"If I have to go in there, the mission has been failed. I can't just crack open concrete barriers set up for the safety of everyone in the area to satisfy your curiosity, and unless we have intel on where the radiation is too high, I'll be dead as soon as I walk in."

Hal nodded. It was pretty obvious that he didn't want Dave going into the reactor either. "Do you have any idea of where to start?"

Dave put the picture down on the table. "Just like the picture says: Pripyat Hostel."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Green Lantern, also known as Magic Lantern, was a real FBI computer virus (trojan horse spyware variety). Luckily, the anti-virus guys didn't submit to governmental pressure, telling them that doing it for the US Government would mean they'd have to do it for other governments too. I don't think Hal uses Windows, so he wouldn't be susceptible to it anyways, but I needed a good name. And of course, Green Lantern is also the name of a comic book hero that Otacon recognizes, but being a specifically anime fan, may have never read.


	4. Operation: Wormwood

Getting to Pripyat was simple enough.

Hal got the two of them passage via a Philanthropy jet that was supposed to be going to Australia for some reason or other, so they had the pilot stop in Kiev to refuel while Snake and Otacon got off the plane.

From there, the pair made their way to Slavutych. They took a room in a hotel, and Otacon used his cell phone to gain access to satellites, piggybacking on the signals to get to the internet. He'd bought a new laptop computer en-route to the airport, figuring that there was a need for a little bit more paranoia than before.

Snake was happy that he was finally getting his partner to be a little more cautious. Otacon was just happy that he was able to get onto the net without any problems.

Getting to Pripyat was a little more difficult. Entry into the 25k radius exclusion zone needed official documents. While Otacon could have easily faked that, going that route would have meant an armed escort "guiding" him through so-called safe areas.

So instead, Snake took his modified Smart-Ion reader (modified by Hal to give a short vibration instead of a loud beeping noise when radiation was estimated as being too high), found a likely spot in the first fence, and cut his way through.

A 20k hike was next. If Snake didn't keep himself in such good shape, he might have been tired from it, but even so, he was stopping frequently to check the readings of beta and gamma radiation.

The place was unnerving. Snake walked close enough to the main roadway that he would have been able to see anyone passing by him, but there were no cars. It was as if everything had been abandoned here.

The hike out to Pripyat took almost 6 hours. If he didn't have the excuse of checking radiation levels, Snake would have been quite upset at this time. In Alaska as a musher, he'd have done 18 miles in just under 4.

[Otacon, are you there?]

[I read you, Snake. What's up?]

[It's pretty deserted around here. Is this normal?]

[Yeah, I did my research on the way here. A few years ago, people were trying to get them to open up the area as an eco-tourism spot, but when that fell through... well, no one really goes there except reporters and scientists, really, so unless there's a tour scheduled...]

[Don't people still work around here?]

[Yes, there are some engineers that still work on maintaining the safety of the decommissioned plants, but no one really goes into the town. Of all the places in the exclusion zone, Pripyat is the one that no one has returned to.]

[Guess I'm on my own for directions then.]

[Sorry, Snake.]

Snake sighed and shut down the CODEC. It wasn't like he'd always had directions before. He'd usually had radar though. In this place, everything was giving off radiation, and the soliton radar had been giving out so many false readings that he'd had to start ignoring it.

Walking around blind in a ghost town with radioactive dust was not his idea of a good time, but then he hadn't really expected it to be. And while he walked, he was quite certain he was hearing someone following him. Each time he looked though, he found nothing but old boxes and rotting doorways.

After a while, he decided that there were probably animals hiding in the abandoned buildings and living in the trees. It was a good reason for why he never seemed to find anyone or anything.

It was hard to believe, walking through Pripyat, that this town had once held over 45000 people. He could see how pictures of this place had become famous: the unused ferris wheel hung over the city like some great wheel of fortune while the trees in the middle of the roads seemed more natural than the mossy buildings to the sides of them.

It took another hour of walking through the eery silence to find the hotel from the picture, and when he did, he found the doors flung wide. He walked inside cautiously as his radiation meter buzzed to inform him that he was entering a more dangerous area.

[Otacon, I'm in. The radiation levels in here are a bit higher than we thought...]

[Nothing you can do about it now. The dust is probably where the radiation is most concentrated. Just try not to disturb anything too much, okay Snake?]

[Nothing like breathing in Plutonium...]

[Cesium and strontium.]

[Whatever.]

He went to the front desk. The guestbook lay on the top of the desk, open to April 27, 1986. No names were on that page, so he turned back a few days. April 26, April 25, April 24... the names were uninteresting. April 23: Emmerich, A.

[What was your father's name again, Hal?]

[Arthur Emmerich. Is there something there?]

[Yeah. The guestbook has his name. No checkout time, either...]

[So are you going to check out the room?]

[I'm looking to see if there's an alias for Big Boss here. One that I'd recognize, anyway... Emmerich is the last entry for the day, and I'd think they'd have one for him too. Hm.]

Snake pondered over it. The rest of the names seemed very Russian to him, and turning the pages a little bit more still wasn't giving anything. Perhaps the room was a double-occupancy? It would presumably be easier than creating several rooms full of bogus leads.

[I'm going to go up to the room. Maybe the radiation won't be so high up there. How are things at your end? No computer viruses yet?]

[Uh... No. Of course not, Snake!]

[Good. Just keep monitoring the radio waves. If anyone finds me here, I want to know it.]

[Yeah, uh... Sure.]

Snake paused. [Something going on, Otacon?]

[No, no! Everything's normal, Snake.]

Snake narrowed his eyes. That was strange. [Okay. Whatever you say, Otacon.]

[Everything's fine.] Otacon cut the connection.

Snake shook his head and decided to ignore the little conversation. There were more important things to do, including getting out of the irradiated lobby.

It was nice that it was only on the second floor. Snake climbed the stairs three at a time. The staircase had an even higher level of radiation, and Snake didn't want to stay in there for longer than necessary.

The second floor hallway wasn't very bad, and the radiation detecting device finally stopped vibrating. The paint was falling off the walls. Snake opened the door to the room cautiously, half-expecting to find a dozen men inside waiting to try to kill him.

There was no one there though, just the soft light coming in through the window, filtered by the leaves of some tree pushing against the glass. Peaceful light, with a fine layer of dust everywhere. It was clear that this room hadn't been touched in years.

Papers and schematics and satellite views littered the floor like some kind of cold-war carpeting. Snake bent down to take a closer look at them when he heard a noise from the hallway. He backed up against the wall and waited as footsteps quietly made their way towards the room.

He pulled his gun out and waited. The person in the hallway stopped in front of the open door, hovering.

"Snake?"

Snake put the gun away and growled, walking to the door to face his partner. "Otacon, what are you doing here?"

"You should have known I wouldn't stay behind while you got all the fun." Otacon shrugged as he entered, shutting off the camo suit. "Besides, I knew if this panned out there'd have to be a computer, and there it is." Otacon motioned towards the dead box of circuits in the corner of the room.

Snake shook his head. There was no point in arguing now. The damage was done. "Fine. So what are you going to do to with a computer that has no power?" Otacon brought out a little portable battery pack with a grin. Snake's brow furrowed. "Where were you keeping that?"

Otacon shrugged and plugged the computer in.

Snake shook his head and decided to look at the papers instead. Most of them were schematics, plans of RBMK power plants. The layer of dust on them was thin, but they didn't look as though they were planted here... There had to be an explanation! Just not one that Snake saw right now.

"I've got it, Snake. Logs of missions..."

"What's the most recent one?"

"April 25, 1986. That's the night before it happened. No, the night it did happen..."

"You have enough power to play it back?"

Otacon went back to typing. "We'll see in a minute or two..."

Snake nodded and ran the radiation detector over the papers. After ascertaining that they were safe enough, he began to gather them together.

* * *

TRANSCRIPT OF CONVERSATION OPERATION WORMWOOD :   
25 APRIL 1986 : 11:57 PM

EM: OK, BOSS, YOU THERE?

BB: YOU BET. ARE WE READY TO GET THIS PARTY STARTED? EM: ANOTHER THREE MINUTES.   
BB: GOOD. I'M GETTING TIRED OF WAITING. EM: I PAID FOR 12 MIDNIGHT, IF YOU WANTED AN EARLIER TIME, IT WOULD HAVE COST AN EXTRA HALF MILLION AMERICAN.   
BB: RELAX. MIDNIGHT'S CLOSE ENOUGH. EM: REMEMBER, TURBINE NUMBER 2 IS THE ONE THAT'S OFF. DON'T MAKE A MISTAKE. I WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO PAY OFF THE WHOLE KGB.

BB: I'VE GOT PEOPLE IN THERE. IT WOULDN'T BE A PROBLEM.

EM: RIGHT. AND REMEMBER, NO MORE THAN 20 TONS. THEY'D HAVE A TOUGH TIME COVERING MORE THAN THAT UP.   
EM: THERE'S SUPPOSED TO BE A SAFETY TEST TODAY.

BB: HA. THAT'S RICH.

EM: NO, YOU ARE.   
EM: ANYWAY, IF YOU TAKE TOO MUCH, THEY MIGHT NOTICE SOMETHING.   
EM: AND SINCE THEY'RE RUNNING A TEST, IT MIGHT RUN RISKS FOR THE SAFETY OF THE REACTOR.   
EM: THE LAST THING WE NEED IS TO GET KILLED IN A NUCLEAR EXPLOSION.

BB: DON'T WORRY. YOUR KID'LL STILL HAVE A FATHER WHEN THIS IS OVER.   
BB: AH, MIDNIGHT. LOOKS LIKE I'M DONE KILLING TIME.

OPERATION WORMWOOD :   
26 APRIL 1986 : 12:29

EM: THE POWER JUST DROPPED TO BELOW SAFETY POINTS. ANYTHING GOING ON?

BB: NOTHING I CAN SEE. DO WE NEED TO STOP LOADING?

EM: ...I DON'T THINK SO. SAFETY MEASURES ARE IN EFFECT.

BB: WE'VE GOT AROUND A QUARTER OF IT LOADED NOW. TELL ME IF ANYTHING STARTS HAPPENING.

EM: WILL DO, BOSS.

OPERATION WORMWOOD :   
26 APRIL 1986 : 1:04

EM: POWER'S GOING BACK UP. WHAT'S YOUR STATUS OVER THERE?

BB: WE'VE GOT HALF-   
BB: SHIT, SOMEONE'S TRYING TO RAISE AN ALARM-

OPERATION WORMWOOD :   
26 APRIL 1986 : 1:09 B

B: TOOK CARE OF THE PROBLEM. HE ALMOST MADE IT TO THE CONTROL ROOM BEFORE I COULD HANDLE IT. DID HE GET A CALL OUT?

EM: THERE'S NOTHING ON MY SCANNERS.

OPERATION WORMWOOD :   
26 APRIL 1986 : 1:14

EM: THE CONTROL RODS ARE OUT... THERE'S SOMETHING WRONG HERE. I THINK SOMEONE'S TRYING TO INCREASE THE POWER.

BB: DID YOU FORGET TO PAY SOMEONE OFF?

EM: I PAID OFF THE ONES YOU WANTED PAID OFF. LOOK, IT JUST DOESN'T SEEM RIGHT. I THINK YOU SHOULD ABORT.

BB: ...   
BB: IF WE ABORT NOW AND THIS IS JUST A HUNCH...

EM: NO, THE CONTROL CHIPS ARE GOING OUT... THE SAFETY'S OFF. YOU GUYS ARE IN A LOADED GUN RIGHT NOW. GET OUT OF THERE. IF I'M WRONG, WE'LL DEAL WITH IT LATER.

BB: ...   
BB: THIS IS A LOT OF MONEY WE'RE ABOUT TO BLOW. YOU'D BETTER BE RIGHT.

OPERATION WORMWOOD :

26 APRIL 1986 : 1:23

EM: HOLY SHIT... THEY'RE RUNNING THE TEST! EM: GET OUT OF THERE, NOW!

BB: WE'RE GONE. GET OUT AND BACK TO THE BASE! EM: MANUAL SHUT DOWN? DON'T THESE IDIOTS KNOW THIER OWN REACTORS?

EM: OH SHIT

END OF TRANSCRIPT

* * *

The duo was silent for a few moments.

"He had to know that removing fuel would... It was like... like listening to our evil twins..." Hal said quietly, his eyes unfocused.

"Yeah." Dave said in just as soft a voice. "Our voices, but the wrong words..." Dave took a breath, then pulled himself together. "Any chance it's fake?" asked Snake.

"I don't know... I should analyze it with another computer, I think..."

Snake nodded. "Good. Get whatever you need from it and we'll go back to the hotel in Slavutych."

Otacon nodded sharply and went to work on pulling the computer apart while Snake looked at the papers again. An unspoken agreement passed between them, and they spent the remaining time in the Ukraine in contemplative silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Regarding Chernobyl: There are between 10 and 50 tons of reactor fuel UNACCOUNTED FOR from the Chernobyl reactor 4 explosion. It is thought likely that this fuel is located below the reactor chambers, in locations where humans cannot go without immediate death. Of course, we NOW know that Big Boss and Hal's dad took some of it... ;) Well, unless it's a plant... heheh... which one, which one...
> 
> The times chosen for logged calls were not coincidental:  
> At 12:28, the Chernobyl power went down to 7% instead of the expected 30% (7% in a reactor with positive void coefficient, as in the RBMK reactors, is extremely dangerous). It is not known why it went this low, however to keep the plant running, the safeties were turned off and the "safety experiment" continued. (Of course, I'm not about to go research whether stealing some of the reactant would actually cause the power to fall below expected levels. I'm just deciding that it's true.)
> 
> Between 1:00 and 1:20, all but 6 of the control rods were raised in order to attempt to raise power generation. This was a mistake for this type of reactor.
> 
> At 1:23:40AM, a manual shutdown of the Chernobyl reactor was attempted by the operator. Unfortunately, due to the fact that the control rods were tipped with graphite, this actually ended up causing the explosion that blew the 1000 ton roof off the reactor.
> 
> Within 4 seconds (1:23:44AM), the power had surged to 120 times the normal generating amount. This is when the explosions began. Firefighters that arrived first on the scene all died of radiation without having any effect on the powerful heat of the graphite fires. Those firefighters are "Those who rescued the world," even though their fight was in vain.
> 
> Though less than 3 miles away, Pripyat was not evacuated for more than a day. Children went to school, and no one was told to keep their windows closed to stop the iodine radiation (causes thyroid cancer). The USSR attempted to cover up the explosion at Chernobyl until other countries began questioning their own radiation readings, as well as why Russia was asking how to extinguish graphite fires from the UN. Many people over the years died of radiation related diseases, but scientists are divided on the overall impact of the Chernobyl accident.
> 
> The remaining Chernobyl reactors were in use until the December 1999 when the last was finally decommissioned, however there are many RBMK reactors throughout the old USSR area that are still in use. Most of these have been retrofitted to combat the positive void coefficient effect (power increases as cooling fluid is lost, which makes for instability when power is low).


	5. MK Ultra

Once Hal was safely ensconced back in the United States, Dave decided it was time to find out exactly what was going on. There was one and only one way to do it: he had to visit someone at the source.

Hal didn't seem to know anyone who knew his father. No family friends, no idea of exactly where his father had worked. His father had always worked long hours, and he'd had little contact with his son. The only person Hal really seemed to know was the wicked step-mother.

So that's whose door he was standing outside of now. She'd been remarkably easy to find: a quick look in the London phone book gave Dave an address. He had to admit it was nice to not have to search the entire city.

The house was rather nicer than he'd thought it would be. In the heart of London, this place must be worth a veritable fortune. He knocked on the door and smiled at the pretty girl who answered. "I'm looking for Julie Emmerich?"

"I'm she. And you are...?" Dave paused for a moment to look at her. She had long black hair, pulled back out of her blue eyes. Her eyes looked sharp in her delicate face. She looked a bit like Emma, only a little more age and a little less softness.

"Davis. Jeffrey Davis. I'm trying to get some information about the late Mr. Arthur Emmerich. There's a possibility that he might have inherited some money before he died."

"Oh? Why don't you come in, Mr. Davis? I'll make some tea."

Dave smiled. "Well, it's not tea time, but I suppose we can make an exception." The two of them entered and she led him to a rather spacious kitchen, where she put a kettle on an electric burner.

"So what is it you need to know about him?"

"Well, we'll start with some of the basics." Dave pulled out a few pieces of paper to jot down notes. "What year did you meet him, Mrs. Emmerich, and where were you both at the time?"

"Ah, well... it's a bit strange. A bit improper, really, but... well, we truly did fall in love. He was lying on my couch, you see." Dave's eyes narrowed in confusion. "No, no, I don't mean it like that. I was a psychiatrist. He came in to see me. It was 1992, just after the Gulf War."

"Then your husband was a soldier?"

"Oh... no, of course not. My husband was a scientist. It's just that it was an important time in everyone's life. I was living in America then."

"I see. So what was your husband doing before that time?"

Julie paused and thought for a moment. "He was never very specific. He did a lot of traveling. I think it was some sort of missionary work."

"A religious man?"

"No..." Julie smiled. "He was working with various groups to make a better world."

Dave jotted a few things down and acted like he was correlating some data while Julie put the cup of tea on the table. "Do you take lemon?"

"Yes, thank you." He squeezed the lemon into his tea and took a sip. "Did you ever meet his former wife?"

"His... Oh, no, he wasn't married before me."

Dave's head snapped up at that, so he covered it by looking back down and rifling through his 'notes.' "Is this not the same Arthur Emmerich who had a son named Hal?"

"Yes, he had a son. But he wasn't married. Hal was adopted."

Adopted? The pictures showed a man who looked identical to Hal. The disembodied voice on the computer had sounded exactly like Hal's voice. "Ah, that makes sense. We didn't have a mother on file."

Julie nodded. "Are there any more questions?"

"A few more. I understand your husband drowned. Why was that?"

She paused and smiled sadly. "Someone he cared for died, and he felt that it was his fault. Apparently, he couldn't live without this person."

"Oh, I'm sorry." Another strange remark. Dave put it into his memory as being out of place, then decided to pursue other avenues. "Do you have a picture of him?"

"You need that for this?"

"Well, unless you have old hair you've kept around... it's a substantial sum, and we want to be absolutely sure of the line of inheritance."

An excited and greedy glint swam into her eyes at his words. "What kind of sum are we talking about?" she asked a little too casually.

Dave shrugged. "I think it's something around twenty million pounds."

Her breathing turned shallow while a big, plastic smile fell onto her face. "I might have something. Just wait here for a moment."

Dave nodded with a small smile that disappeared as the woman left the room. To his mind, the woman was a small, shallow little girl. The way she spoke of Hal and his father, it was clear that she didn't think much of either one. And a psychiatrist marrying her patient? Wasn't that a terrible breach of ethics? And then, for that same psychiatrist, who would have known in detail how to exploit a young, lonely boy and who would have known the kind of damage she could do to him...

She came down the stairs in a clamor and arrived in the kitchen obviously trying to appear less than excited. "I found a picture and an old lock of hair I was keeping. I hope it will help you."

Dave smiled and glanced at the picture. Snake glued the smile in place and put the photo safely away in his pocket, suddenly even more angry with the woman. "I'm sure it will, Mrs. Emmerich."

She led him to the door and waved goodbye with a pleased look on her face before shutting the door.

Snake growled. Who knew how much she knew and was covering up? She'd lied and he was going to get to the bottom of it.

The photograph was of the same man he'd seen before. This photograph was of an aged version of Hal.


	6. Queen Mary

"If Dave were here," mused Hal, "I probably wouldn't be..."

Of course, that was the upside of Dave deciding to disappear. Hal got to go on what could be liberally termed a mission. On the downside, he was doing it alone. Hal was of the opinion that the good outweighed the bad. He had an M9 in one hand and a Pocket PC in the other. Life didn't get much better than this.

The big neon sign above the building proclaimed this to be Deeler Tech, and while it would have seemed innocuous to most, Hal knew that there were over 50 guards in the building's basement levels. If he didn't have his light bending suit, parts obtained at considerable cost, Hal might even have been a little bit nervous at the idea of going in by himself.

"Okay," said Hal. "I can do this! Just get down to the lower levels of the building, connect to their computers, hack the databases and find out what they did with the uranium after they got it from-" He stopped and took a deep breath. He had to say it! "From Dad and Big Boss."

Normally, Hal would have hacked in from outside but this company was more than just paranoid: Deeler Tech had physically disconnected all their data holding computers from outside lines. It was an ingenious setup, really. At random times of the day, the internal database computers would have robots operate to connect with the external data entry computers and gather up everything that had been done for the day. From what Hal had been able to see, the random time was determined by a random seed weekly that had something to do with the number of people who reported themselves sick in the corporation on each day, as well as the ones who were on vacation. That information itself went into the internal databases before being deleted. Just to find out a random seed, Hal would have to collect information from the external databases for a year, and that would only get him a minute of time with the internal hard drives.

That's why there was really no choice but to go on this mission. And it would make a great excuse if Snake found out. The last mission he'd gone on... well, if Emma hadn't... died... Snake would probably never have forgiven him.

"Enough stalling, Otacon, it's time to go in. And I should probably stop talking to myself now, too," he said as an afterthought. Hal turned on the camo suit and walked in the front door.

He walked past the receptionist and pressed the button to get the elevator to come. When he got in though, he was slightly surprised to see that there were no floors accessible below the first basement. He knew from the building plans that there were at least three levels below ground.

Hal pushed the button to go to the first basement floor. There should be some stairs around here... had to be... There was already a guard here, about to check out the elevator. He looked around as the door opened.

"Damned elevator. Have to call for someone to fix it..." Hal stepped off and the elevator doors closed behind him. "Control," said the guard into his walkie-talkie, "Elevator 2 just came and opened up for no reason. We're gonna need a techie..."

Hal ignored the man and walked around until he got to a fire exit. He looked in through the tiny window, but didn't see any stairs leading down. Three more sets of emergency stairs later, and Hal was more than ready to give up.

He sat down in a little alcove and sighed. "If I fail this mission, Snake will laugh at me! I just can't fail it..."

"...so, I think if we use the inverse-"

"We'll get a converse delta field that will-"

"Exactly! We've got to try this out. It could revolutionize production."

Hal looked up as the two went into a room. They looked vaguely scientifically oriented... Maybe they were going downstairs! He jumped up from his seat on the floor and ran to catch up with them. Sure enough, the room they'd gone into had a set of stairs right in the middle.

The exiting doors all had keycard locks on them, so Hal rushed to catch up to the pair as they went down two flights and went out of the stairwell. He was just in time to get through before the door closed on his heels. It was just unfortunate that this didn't happen to be the right floor.

The whole area was completely open. There were lasers and a supercomputer... it looked like a research facility, not a data warehouse. There was nothing much protecting the computer here except for the fact that it wasn't plugged in to anything except for some sort of power supply. Building like this probably had it's own generators.

The good thing was, there were a lot of people here, and many of them were busily going about their work. Hal leaned against the wall beside the door with a smirk. It couldn't take long before someone went to another floor.

It really didn't. A few minutes later, he was following someone up to the floor above. Hal jammed his foot in the door and looked through. It had been pretty stupid to go right through before, when he didn't have a keycard for the building, after all.

This one wasn't the right floor either. A bunch of lousy little cubicles. This was probably where they did the data entry most of the time.

He went back into the stairwell and went down the stairs to wait for someone to open the door of the third floor. It didn't happen quickly, but within an hour, someone left the room to go upstairs. Hal walked in and looked around.

The room was a standard data storage facility, except of course for the robotic arms that stood guard at the far corner of the room, prepared to put a cable in the wall and take it out afterwards. The floor was concrete and raised slightly, surrounded by glass. Few people were in this area, and they probably never left the room except to go to the bathroom. There were telephones in here, but no computers other than the main storage facilities.

Hal smiled. Exactly as planned, he walked up to the computers and plugged his pocket PC in. While he was waiting for his connection software to work, Hal took a brief look around at the people standing in the room. More than half had to be armed... Hal took a deep breath and promised himself he was going to be quiet.

He was happy that he'd written most of the software beforehand... Even small modifications in this setting were going to be difficult...

Once the connection had been made, Hal began the difficult part of his work: hack and extract. His breath became shallow as the time passed and his little computer tried to do it's job. The first five minutes were simple... The next ten were not quite so easy.

Hal's eyes kept going to the guns and the cameras. Was that guard looking at him? No, the eyes moved by... Was that camera focused too much on the little pocket PC? No, it wasn't... Was that man coming over here to check on the computer?

Oh shit.


	7. Box 1663

It was just past midnight when the lights in Julie Emmerich's house turned off. Snake wasn't satisfied with that though... he waited and watched as the lights throughout the neighborhood slowly went out, and at half past one, threw a stone at the street lamp in front of the house. He crept to the house and scaled the wall away from the streets, opening a window in the attic to get in.

What he saw when he got in was not really what he'd been expecting. Instead of the normal clutter that tended to fill attics throughout the world, this attic had everything neatly organized. Files cabinets, printouts, things in jars with neat little sticky labels attached... this wasn't an attic, it was a room of evidence.

Snake walked carefully to the jars, avoiding the loose floorboards and watching for rotten wood. The last thing he wanted to do was fall into Hal's step-mother's bed.

Hair samples? What kind of woman was this? Samples of hair from the jars coded as E1 and E2. Judging from the few grays splattered in the coloring of the hair, E1 was supposed to be Hal's father, and E2 was supposed to be Hal.

Half the jars seemed to be dated hair samples, while the other half had what could only be blood samples. The blood samples had other markings, instead of just E1 and E2. Some had B1, B3 and B4 written on them. The blood all seemed to have been carefully labeled with a date and location in coordinates.

What in the world had possessed her to keep vials of blood? Snake could think of a few answers, none of them good, especially if Hal's father had worked with Big Boss. Could Hal's father have been creating and testing biological agents on his own son? Could Big Boss have been involved with gene therapy back then?

Snake frowned. He would have to take some of these and have them tested. Hal would know of somewhere to do it safely.

Snake decided to leave the jars alone for the moment, and instead made his way to the filing cabinets.

Hal stepped backwards as the technician walked past his the little pocket PC. He tried to keep his breathing quiet and even. After all, in the camo suit, even if they touched him, they might not realize he was around. As long as they didn't see the computer, he would be all right.

It might be a good time to check how it was doing at this point. He'd written several programs before-hand to try to automate as much of the crack as possible. Most hacking work was just exploiting known security flaws, after all. Well, that and coming up with new ones, but that tended to take a lot more time than he wanted to spend while on a mission.

The techie had moved on to a new location, and was typing into a console, so now was a perfect time to check on the progress. Hal walked back to his connection and touched the screen a few times. It was at 53%, which meant that it had already completed more than half of the attempted scripted hacks without success. Not great, but it didn't mean too much. Hal had over 10,000 scripts for it to go through to try to crack into a new system. The easiest, and least computationally complex scripts were at the beginning of the run. The later ones ranged from elegant though complex algorithms to brute force cracking methods, used as a last resort.

For comparison, when he'd hacked into the department of defense three years ago, he'd needed no more than 30% of the then 5000 scripts.

Hal bit his lip and watched the count as it slowly went up. Another five minutes passed and Hal frowned. 67%, and the techie activity around several of the consoles was increasing. They couldn't be tracing his hacking this quickly, could they?

He wasn't doing anything active yet. The system would have to have the most advanced anti-hacker protocols he'd ever seen... it couldn't be detecting what he was doing, could it?

There was nothing he could do about it right now except abort the mission, and he wasn't willing to do that yet. Hal glanced nervously between the small screen and the techies.

No, there was nothing to do but wait.

The files weren't what he'd been expecting either. Paper upon paper of technical research into strange theoretical worlds of how nurture was the single most important part of a person's psyche.

Reports on the formative years of what had to be a thousand people, ranging from mother Teresa to Aldolf Hitler and everything in between. In fact, as he glanced through one of the studies, the reports actually went all the way until the end of the teenage years. Had this been the woman's main focus of study? If that were the case, what could have possessed her to take Hal as a lover at such a young age?

Of course, this was just in the first two cabinets. The cabinets lined the attic like insulation, and Snake intended to at least have a general idea of what was in each one.

The next three cabinets were filled with detailed reports on ten people, organized by number and identified by a small one-page summary at the front. These files were much more extensive, judging by the size of them. Each of the massive reports was subdivided, headed apparently by different stages of development, then further divided by age.

Snake took the summary pages of each. They each had a keyword attached with a little yellow sticky note that must have been at least ten years old. Snake absently took note of the names before relegating the sheets to a pocket for further study: Wizard, Warrior, Confederate, Politician, White Knight, Black Knight, Theurgist, High Priest, Economist, and Scientist.

Most of the rest of the cabinets were dedicated to minutiae of meetings Julie must have had with her clients. Snake decided to pass most of these up, and went instead to the file on Arthur Emmerich.

Pulling the heavy file out, Snake widened the beam of his flashlight so that there was a large though diffuse beam over the entire sheet.

Emmerich had come in following the Gulf War, that much had been true. He'd talked about "the Boss" frequently, but when Julie had pressed for a name, he'd insisted that he couldn't tell her for her own safety. He'd complained of nightmares and flashbacks, though in the first session he hadn't gone into any details. She had diagnosed him with PTSD, though hadn't eliminated the possibility of a general anxiety problem. Snake's eyes closed briefly. Post-traumatic stress disorder?

The next page had several cross listings. L134, FT1, L136-152, B1335-66458896042D2 ongoing... FT1... that was the "Wizard" file... Snake pursed his lips and kept reading.

The following six pages detailed a course of "treatment" that involved distancing the patient from his lover, who from her notes appeared to be the Boss himself, and at the same time creating a dependancy on his therapist. The next twenty were transcripts of sessions in which she apparently had done just that. She'd started some sort of hypnotherapy after that.

Snake read the file, enraptured as she carefully manipulated conversations and sessions. She started bringing up Hal, even though he had never been mentioned in any of the therapy sessions, implying that he needed a positive female influence and finally manipulating her patient into a strange relationship that involved no sex (Hal's father was apparently still devoted to his lover, despite her therapy) but had involved a marriage.

When he proposed marriage, the file suddenly stopped.

What the hell was going on here?

Snake put the file back. This was big, whatever it was... Snake suddenly wished that Otacon was around to watch his back, so to speak.

At the same time, Otacon was wishing that Dave was around to watch his back.

At 95%, Hal knew that the last few tests might take days, and still might not work. He had become afraid of detection and was starting to seriously consider the intelligence of having come on this mission. The current test was to try every single one of the account identifications and passwords from the external system to gain access to the internal system. The simple version of the test tried them each one by one: this more brutish method tried every permutation of user id and password, then attempted to come up with different spellings or numbers that might be used in the passwords.

If this test didn't work, there were still almost 500 more... but each one could take up to an hour, and the final brute force method was a scary piece of work that, in isolation, had taken over 24 hours to find it's way into his own systems. Even at this point, given the size of the various files involved, it might take up to 20 minutes per test.

Oh yes. Hal had to wonder if he had any brains to begin with. This system was uncrackable.

Hal looked down at the little computer, still chugging along. Having nothing else to do, he decided that he might as well look over the shoulders of the techies. At least he might get some information out of it.

If he didn't, he was going to have to cover up the whole thing and somehow make Snake think he'd been working all day or deal with teasing and snide comments for the rest of his life when Dave found out.

Standing behind the techies, unfortunately, just wasn't very interesting. It seemed like all they did were system tests, checksumming files, looking at database logs and other bits of computer hocus-pocus that Hal would certainly have been able to recognize if he weren't so worried about getting into the system and getting out of the building without getting caught by the guards.

Hal went back to his computer interface and did a double take. It had gotten in! Somehow, someone must have used a password that was similar to one they'd used on the outside systems!

Hal clicked on the screen again and anxiously watched as it started to stream data. This just had to work!

Hal stood guard at his little pocket PC while the techies again started gathering at a console, pointing and talking quietly amongst themselves.

Snake's bad feeling had gotten worse, but he wasn't ready to quit. There were still two filing cabinets left, and he wasn't about to leave and give Hal the information he'd just found without further proof.

The second last filing cabinet was filled with letters, or rather, correspondence between Julie and potential clients or sellers of medicines. The L annotation from the cross reference suddenly became clear: Julie, or perhaps a secretary, had labeled the letters carefully with an L and a following number, then arranged them numerically.

Most of the letters were uninteresting, though Snake read one or two at the beginning and glanced through the others that weren't related to anything. Basic letters about treatment options, queries and responses about Prozac, Cogentin, Amylobarbitone, Seranace...

L134 was the first referenced letter, and would probably have something interesting in it, so it was the first one he looked for. It was... strange, to say the least. It was a letter that was addressed from "the Boss." It basically said that if Julie did a good job with Mr. Emmerich, he would be willing to give her a recommendation to the men and women under his command if they or their families needed her services. It also had a slightly threatening tone to it, implying that if her services relating to the man were sold to anyone else, she could expect retribution.

It was exactly the sort of letter that Snake himself might have sent to some unknown person if Hal had, against his advice, decided to see a therapist.

Snake frowned, then continued on to the next set that had been cross-referenced. These were letters between Julie and a group calling themselves the "Patriotic Americans Association." They offered money to her for gaining access to Emmerich's son. Their stated goal was at first knowledge of the Boss, and this would be accomplished most easily through a young man who wouldn't have barriers to telling her the Boss's name.

At the third letter, the tone started changing. Apparently, Julie had been asking questions about the association, and was questioning their ultimate goals. The letter written back to her had been some sort of garbage about how there were certain people throughout time who could change the history of the world, and they thought Hal was one of those people. Apparently, they fed her something about nuclear disarmament.

Starting on L146, the letters were missing. Snake growled at this turn of events. The latter letters might have been the most interesting in the group. Whatever had happened, it had been on the orders of this association, and given recent events, it sounded as though the Patriots themselves were involved.

But why would they be involved with Big Boss and Arthur Emmerich? They had made Big Boss, surely they couldn't need to know his name... and sleeping with Hal, who didn't even know the men his father worked with, couldn't have made any difference!

One filing cabinet left.

Histo Ririte.

Hal was breathing too shallowly and rapidly, he knew that intellectually. His breathing was loud in his ears, and he was going to get caught.

They'd found the link, and now they were searching for the pocket PC, and there were guards swarming the area. Hal was having enough trouble trying to stay out of the way of the armed men walking around. The techies had warned them not to fire their guns, but Hal had no doubt that these men would shoot him and then apologize to the technicians.

He'd looked away from the furious debate for only a moment to check on the data, and he'd seen something. The president of the company's name was now in his mind in indelible ink.

Histo Ririte.

The problem was, when he'd looked back up, there was a guard about to bump into him and he'd had to move fast to avoid the man.

They were going to find him, and then they were going to kill him. Where was Snake when he needed him?

Snake was looking at the final filing cabinet. It didn't have much in it.

A chart that looked vaguely anthropological in nature, with the names of Wizard and company with lots of annotations, additional names scrawled around the others. Snake grabbed the chart and put it in his pocket.

A list of names, most crossed out, one underscored. Snake memorized the names and put the sheet back. Cross references that would take a year to decipher. Snake didn't even bother looking at that one.

Snake stopped suddenly, head rising as he went on alert. There was a light on in the house. He'd gone through as much as he could. It was time to leave.

He walked back to the jars and took a few of the blood samples. The lights were getting closer. Definitely time to leave.

Snake walked quietly to the window and got out, closing the window just as a light went on in the attic, then he scaled down the building. He pulled the evidence of his incursion off of the house and sprinted across the street to the rental car.

He drove away into the night.

They'd found it, and they were locking the place down! There was no way to get the mini-computer now. Hal was going to be lucky to get out with his life. Damn the information, it was lost now.

Otacon carefully followed the technicians as the armed guards began escorting them out.

Whoever these people were, they were taking no chances. If these people caught him, he doubted even Snake would be able to save him. Even if he had been here.

Which he wasn't.

He followed the technicians as they walked in a tense line to the top floor. The elevator was down, and the guard did a face check of each one before they were allowed to get on. Hal backed himself up against a wall, hoping against hope that it wouldn't be crowded enough for someone to bump into him.

Hal thought he was going to die as the elevator slowly went up from the basement floor to the ground floor. Security had set upÊ a station that Hal didn't recognize. Each of the techies was walking past slowly to get outside. He couldn't go around it, so Hal waited for his chance. Some of the techies were a little slow to go through, and Hal darted, then heaved a sigh of relief, glad to be out of the building.

When he opened his eyes, there were three guns pointed at him. He looked down stupidly. His suit was off. He looked back up. The three guns were now seventeen. He let his hands slowly move away from his body to emphasize the fact that he was not about to take them on with an M9.

He never even felt the gun hit the back of his head.


	8. ALSOS

Dave rubbed his eyes and stretched before turning the car off. 8 hours in a plane, another 3 getting past customs, and then the drive home... damn, but Dave needed to get to his bed and crash. He couldn't have slept more than 20 minutes in the past 2 days. Of course, if he had just let go of his paranoia and actually slept on the plane...

Well, it didn't matter now. Now was time to go say hello to Hal before putting the evidence somewhere for later attention and finding his bed.

He opened his car door and swung it shut, swearing as the window shuddered and the door failed to close. Hal needed to get him a new car, this was it! Funding or no funding, a 1989 Toyota with a bad gear shift simply did not cut it as a spy car!

"'Oh, no, Dave, we can't afford a new car. I needed to get the latest computer toy...'" Dave grumbled and reclosed the door, more gently this time. "'And look what you did to the last one, Dave. You drove it off a cliff instead of getting new plates.' Well, Hal, if you happened to have any skill in something useful like car mechanics, maybe you could have found the trace they put on it, and I wouldn't have had to."

Dave shook his head. Hal had never let him win an argument about a car before... he probably wouldn't now. He yawned and locked the door, and was halfway up the stairs to the apartment before realizing he'd left all the stuff he'd taken from Julie's back in the car.

He sighed and looked back down the stairs, then shook his head. "I'll get Hal to get it. He's the one who's been sitting at his computer, I'm sure he'd love the chance to go outside..." He smirked. Since when did Hal jump at a chance to get away from his computers?

He took the last few flights quickly, eager to get home, but before opening the door to the correct floor, paused. Something felt wrong. It was nothing he could pin down, but it was always a good idea to trust his gut instincts. He looked through the window from the door, but there didn't appear to be anything amiss...

Shrugging, Dave pushed the door open and walked slowly to the apartment door. Open? Dave frowned. That didn't seem right at all... He pressed himself up against the wall, then peeked around the door frame.

Shit. The place was in shambles. He looked in the desk by the front door. M9: missing. The rest of the doors were open, too, so whoever it was must have left.

"Hal?" He looked in Hal's bedroom, then the bathroom, then the kitchen. Wimp. He was probably hiding in a closet. "Hal... if you're hiding, they're gone." He checked in his bedroom for good measure, then shook his head. If Hal were here, he'd have come out by now.

Dave could feel the beginning of a headache. He rubbed his eyes and pinched his nose. Couldn't trust any pills left in the bathroom... He'd have to pick something up later. But where was Hal?

He sighed. Maybe Hal had left a phone message... Now, where was the phone? It had been ripped out of the wall here, and so it had to be... here, following the phone cord under the papers. Dave picked the hardcopies of various pieces of Metal Gear evidence up to reveal the phone.

He plugged it into the wall and picked it up. Dial tone, check. He put it on speaker mode and turned to the rest of the apartment. It was going to need some serious clean-up, and he might as well see if he could tell how much damage there was.

"All right, phone." Snake sighed. "Messages."

"Please say your password now."

Snake scowled. He hated the password. He hated Hal for making the password up. He hated the phone company for making him say the password. "Hal kicks Dave's butt," he said in a low growl. "At Quake 13," he added with a shake of his head.

"You have- 1- new message. Listen to unheard messages, or choose another option?"

"Listen to the message."

"Message- 1. Sent- yesterday, at- 3. 05."

"This is Tyler." Tyler? Oh, crap. What had they done this time to get the head of Philanthropy on their case? "What the hell do you two think you're doing? I'm getting messages that you two are on the Interpol watch lists, again! You know the kind of difficulty that puts us in? And now I'm finding you aren't even using all that expensive equipment to look for Metal Gear, you're using it for some sort of personal vendetta?" Personal vendetta? Oh come on, it wasn't that bad. And it might be leading them to a metal gear, who knew...? "Look, just give me a call when you get in." Yeah, right.

"Delete, save or re-"

"Delete!" Hal could deal with Tyler when he got home.

"End of new messages. Is there anything else we can do for you today?"

"Nope."

"Goodbye, Philanthropy 31. Have a nice- evening."

Dave sighed. Where the hell was Hal? Coming home to find the apartment like this, he really needed a phone call. Still, no need to worry, right? There was no sign of a fight, and Hal surely would have done something...

What he needed to do right now was straighten the apartment up and take an inventory. The gun wasn't there, and that was worrying. Not only was it the only modified M9 he had, and by chance the original modified M9, but it was also the only gun that Hal would let him keep in the house.

Nothing he could do about it though. He might as well start cleaning. Move the heavy stuff first, then try to come up with an inventory. It didn't look like the place had been burgled, more like tossed, so the prospects of figuring out just what had been taken were pretty slim. At least, not without taking a few days to go through exactly what files were still there and what was gone.

A thought occurred to him. Had they been searching for what he'd taken from Julie's? If so, why hadn't they waited until he'd been back? He opened the blinds and looked down at the car. No suspicious activity around it. Everything was most likely fine... Still...

He made a quick dash down to the run down car and took everything out, placing the papers and blood samples in various pockets. Then, he pulled the gun out from the glove compartment. Not as safe as the M9 - if this one hit anyone in the neck, they'd be dead, not asleep - but it was protection in case anyone came back.

He took the stairs two at a time back up to the apartment, a little disappointed that the telephone wasn't ringing. Time to straighten the apartment up. It wasn't as though this was the first time the apartment had been tossed. Hal was usually the one who checked on what was missing though. He knew more about what was in all the files.

So Dave did what he normally did. He picked up the big furniture, straightened up the files and put them on Hal's desk. The computers, too.

It was getting pretty late. Dave glanced at the clock. Almost 8 o'clock. Hal should have called by now. Was this payback for leaving Hal alone here without a word?

Dave went to his room. What a mess! He righted the dresser and put the drawers back in. Had these people been looking for something, or just having fun throwing his clothes everywhere? He picked up the socks and underwear that were all over the floor, folding them and putting them into the drawers carefully.

Then he went to Hal's room. Who knew how much of this was from the people who destroyed it... Well, obviously Hal didn't rip his own posters off the wall, nor was he likely to have pulled all the clothes out of his closet, but underwear all over the floor was not entirely incongruous...

He put Hal's furniture back to the normal position, but left the clothing where it was. He made the bed though. Dave hated seeing an unmade bed. Assuming Hal called, he'd probably go to sleep in this bed. Speaking of Hal, it was now 21:00. If he didn't call soon... Well, Dave was starting to get worried. And he hated being worried.

Maybe Hal had left a note, hidden under all the papers that had fallen out of everything. Dave went over to the papers and started straightening them up. Not putting them in any order, of course, just straightening them up.

At 22:04 exactly, the phone rang. Dave picked it up. "Hello?"

"Dave?"

"Hal! Where the hell have you been? You should have left a message on the machine, or at least-"

"Dave, I think perhaps you should listen instead of talking." A garbled, synthesized voice filled the line, and Snake's mind suddenly went on alert.

He paused briefly, trying to see if he could recognize anything from what was left of the real voice. "Who is this?"

"My name is unimportant, Dave. Your friend Hal was doing something he shouldn't have done. I'm not sure what to do with him now." Snake grimaced and waited. "But I think you have something I want. You stole something in England. Perhaps we could work something out, Dave?"

"I wasn't in England recently. You'll have to help me out." Snake smiled and flicked a switch. Good thing he'd let Hal convince him to put a tracing doohickey on the phone... As long as it wasn't broken...

"Now Dave, you wouldn't want me to hurt your friend, would you? He's pretty. There are so many ways to hurt pretty boys."

That was... what was he saying...? He couldn't be implying he'd... "What do you want?"

"You took blood samples, apparently. I'm a bit angry with her for having kept them, of course, but it seems I have something to offer you, so I would like them returned."

"Fine. We'll exchange them, then?"

"That's right, Dave. A nice little exchange. Now, why don't you just go to your car and drive to Wakefield subway station. There will be a cell phone there. I'll make sure it rings. It should take around 10 minutes to get there from where you are, but I'm sure a man like you can make it in 5."

The phone disconnected with a click. Snake glanced down at the tracer. It had done its job, but unfortunately, the number was attached to a cell phone. Not helpful.

No time to worry about it. Snake ran out of the apartment, not bothering to close or lock the door. He took the stairs a flight at a time: one of the advantages to being in great shape was the ability to get places quickly.

The car was, once again, having troubles, but after a few swift kicks, started. He drove to the station at 50 miles an hour, making it in slightly under four and a half minutes, according to his own internal chronometer.

The cellphone was already ringing. People were looking around trying to find it. Luckily, Snake had better hearing than them. He picked it up and waited for someone to speak.

After ten seconds of waiting, he decided to break the silence. He needed Hal back. "Well?"

"Hello, Dave. You're going to go on a subway ride this time. I hope you brought exact change."

"I want to speak to Hal."

"Would you leave him with me if I didn't let you?" Snake said nothing. "Ah, how similar."

"To whom?"

"Dave?"

"Hal. Can you see anything?"

"No," said Hal.

"You okay?"

"I guess. Look, Dave, I- hey!"

"Enough." Snake cursed the garbled voice. "Take the train to East 180th. Take the phone, and don't try to phone out. We'll know." The other end clicked.

Snake growled. Snake did as he was told. He didn't have exact change, so he jumped the turnstiles when no one was looking. When he got to the station, the phone rang again.

This time, nothing more than a location. "Morris Park." He got onto the green line and rode there.

Apparently, they were already done with the little game because the next call told him to get out and go to a dentist's office in the area. He followed the instructions to the letter, then slipped into the alleyway they had indicated.

Hal was on the ground, kneeling with his hands and feet bound, a blindfold on his face, and a dozen laser-beams aimed at his chest. Snake was fairly certain these weren't laser pointers. A man stood next to Hal, his face covered by a mask.

"Do you have what we wanted, Dave?"

The accent was different from whoever had been on the phone. Snake glanced up. They were sitting ducks here. "Yes."

"Dave, don't give them anything."

Snake ignored Hal. "Well?"

"Put them on the ground." Snake did so. "Now take your friend, and don't let him do stupid things. He's a lucky man. Anyone else might have been killed."

Snake nodded. "You're lucky yourselves. If he'd been hurt..."

"My employer wanted me to give you both a message. Stay out of our business, Dave, Hal. Or our interests will have to take action against you."

Snake smiled and pulled the bindings off of Hal's feet and hands. "Your employer's interests should be less interesting. Let's hope we never meet again." He undid the blindfold and guided Hal out of the alleyway and away from the sights.

"Dave, what did you give them? These guys are-"

"Shut up, Hal."

Hal did as he was told, but looked none-too-pleased. It was obvious that he was only doing it because he felt Snake might have a real reason for keeping him quiet.

The subway ride was quiet. Dave almost would have slept, except that he was feeling even more paranoid now than usual. The car ride was worse, as Hal kept trying to say things. Dave gave him Looks that told him he'd better not.

When they got home, Hal sighed quietly. "We got trashed."

"Yeah. Funny how that happens. Hal, why don't you tell me what happened."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original authors notes: 
> 
> I thought it would be more funny to give Snake a crappy car. Everyone seems to write him with a jag. -_^
> 
> Let's see, what else... Oh. Tyler is the leader of Philanthropy according to a Japanese document someone had put up at the time. I wonder if it's supposed to be Tyler Durden from Fight Club? Daaden, Durden...


	9. Bockscar

"...and, well, I guess the most embarrassing part of it was that I brought my driver's license..." Hal felt like he was going to burn up from the embarrassment. Not only did he have to tell Dave about how he'd gone on a mission that had failed, and miserably at that, but he had to tell him about the completely stupid mistakes he'd made.

Like how he'd walked out without thinking about an electronic jamming device. Or how he'd ended up coming home without the gun - Snake's gun - and the computer. Or how he'd done the unthinkable and actually carried _identification_ with him on a mission.

After Snake's initial glowering at him, Hal had taken to looking at the table, not daring to look up. Consequently, it took him completely by surprise when the laughter came bubbling up from Dave's lips like blood after a lung shot. His head shot up. "You don't have to laugh!"

"Believe me, I do," said Dave between gasps of laughter. "It's the only thing stopping me from punching you!"

"Oh." Hal sank down into the chair. It wasn't fair. If Dave had been around, Hal would never have done something so stupid! He sat back up. "It's not all my fault you know," he protested.

Dave stopped laughing and glared. "Go on," he said with a dangerous tone of voice.

"Well... because you weren't here... and all..." Hal sank back down, not managing to escape Dave's Look.

"I'm not here gives you license to do any damned fool thing you want?" He didn't have to yell. Hal wasn't an idiot, and if Dave had been around, they could have decided things together. It wasn't Hal's fault that Dave had gone _somewhere_ without even taking a cell phone! Dave couldn't talk to him like this! "God damn it, Hal-"

"You're the one who took off without a word! Why are you laying everything on me?"

"Because you're the idiot who got caught!" Dave stood and leaned over the table. "I'm an expert, and you know damned well how long it takes me to prepare for a mission-"

Hal got to his own feet, toppling the chair behind him. "You must be kidding. You act like you've never made a mistake in your life! The great Solid Snake, never does anything wrong, never makes a mistake-"

"That isn't the point, and you know it. You rely on technology and you haven't got a clue, Hal! You think life is an animation? You think life is a bunch of toys sitting on your desk?"

"That's below the belt, Dave. I think life's an anime? You think life is a porno video, with a bunch of women waiting for you to watch them and return them to the nearest Blockbuster!"

Dave's face turned to ice. Hal glanced down to see Dave's hand slowly closing and opening. Hal almost - _almost_ \- wished he could take back what he'd said. He glared back at Dave, covering his nervousness with bravado.

Finally, Dave tossed some papers onto the table. "See what you can come up with," he said, his voice sharp and restrained. "I'm going out."

Going out? "Where do you think you're going?" Hal asked, as Dave reached the door.

Dave smiled nastily as he glanced back. "I think I'll get myself a taste of that Blockbuster life. The last one _you_ got was... ah, from the step-mother who probably slept with you for money. Well, see you tomorrow, Hal." He shut the door with that, stealing the last word.

Hal stared at the door, mouth open on an angry response he couldn't quite think of. He picked up his chair, sat and put his head down on the table. Funny. You always remembered that Snake was a guy who could take the enemy down without anyone getting wise to it. You remembered, every now and then, that he was fluent in six languages. Once in a while, you were reminded that his IQ had been measured at 180, whatever the differences meant at that high level. But the fact that he could take you down with a few words just wasn't something you tended to remember about the legendary Solid Snake.

Or maybe it was something you didn't want to remember about him.

Hal stood and went to the window to watch as the car sped away. "Damn it!" Hal hit the window, hard. "Why do you have to be such a _bastard?_ "

Hal sat back down, feeling drained. "You're such a bastard."

Hal put his head in his hands and looked down at the papers. Distracting himself with work might just be the thing. What had Dave thrown at him?

Papers. Well. Might as well start looking at them. Maybe if he was all done when Dave got home, they could pretend that little exchange never happened.

The first one was the Wizard. According to the paper, he was an extremely intelligent individual. He was loyal once his trust was earned. He could be a very callous individual, but at the same time, he had a need to protect others. He'd been one of two children, but his elder brother had died in a war when he was very young. He'd gotten three undergraduate degrees in the sciences: one in biology, chemistry and physics. He'd done graduate work in bio-chemistry. He'd been involved heavily in unspecified crime, but had never been caught with anything incriminating. There were strong ties between him and the second file.

The Warrior. A soldier "of some repute," the paper mentioned little about formal education. He'd joined the military young, but his intellect had set him apart from the others and he'd been taken into the secret service. He had been a strange sort of bully as a child. According to the paper, the Warrior had alternated between protecting other children and stealing their lunch money. He'd grown up in the great Depression, the child of wealthy parents, rebelling against them at the young age of 10. It mentioned a turning point when he was almost 40 years old, but there were no details.

The Black Knight was the next one on the list. He had been cross referenced in the Warrior's paper, along with the White Knight and the Politician. Hal made quick work of this one. The Black Knight was almost the exact same as the Warrior had been, except that the turning point mentioned was much younger.

The White Knight, on the other hand, was listed quite differently. A child with no siblings, he had listened to his parents throughout his own troubled teenage years. He had always tried to fit in at school. His parents had died when he was 15 from something related to the military (actually, it gave a reason, but Hal couldn't pronounce the words), and he'd become a ward of the state. When he was 16, he'd killed his foster father in self-defense, and the military had taken him in.

The Politician was next. He'd been a child in a large, fairly well-off family. Even so, there had never been enough money for everyone in the family to get what they wanted. He was always the center of attention, both in the family and in school. He'd been intelligent, but had pretended to be less so, manipulating his peers to get everything he wanted.

Next was the Theurgist. He'd been the only child of the Wizard. He'd grown up sheltered from war and "overt militaristic interests." He'd been tested for intelligence and aptitudes starting at an early age. At fourteen, his father had married, and he'd no longer been an only child. Then... stories about nuclear war and his family were told to him...? Then he'd begun rebelling, so...

"What the hell is this?" Hal stared at the sheet. "Step-mother began relationship to counteract and eliminate friends? Fostering instinct to protect others? Progress reports continue to be positive? Protective of younger children, unable to relate to his own age group... Attachment to fantasy? Gullible? Left home after unforseen death of father..."

It was a coincidence, it had to be. The family's dark history and his mother's abuse and his father's death did not link Hal to this Theurgist. This was not him. It just wasn't. "Current goal: meet with White Knight... additional notes, positioned in Alaska. Best case: link by deaths."

He pulled the White Knight's sheet back. "Current goal... current goal... there isn't one on here. Nothing to confirm this... This is crazy! I am not this guy, Dave isn't this one... It isn't true!" Hal put the papers down and pushed them away.

"Where the hell did he get this garbage from? Why am I even looking at it? I might as well be looking at the information I recovered from the Chernobyl disk. At least that's true."

True? If the disk was true, this whole thing could be too. If he was Theurgist, the only son of Wizard, that meant Wizard was his father. And if Wizard was his father, it was not unthinkable that the connected Warrior was Big Boss. Which meant it might even make sense that White Knight was Dave.

"Where did he get this from?" Hal stood. "I need to know where he got this from." He picked up the papers, putting them into his trademark lab coat. He didn't have a location in mind, but he had to try to find Dave.

He locked the door behind him and took the elevator down. Dave probably wasn't going to apologize, even though he'd said the worst part of it. When he got to the ground flood, Hal sighed. It looked like he wouldn't even have to leave the building. Dave was sleeping on a couch, the car parked out in front where you wouldn't be able to see it from their apartment.

Hal sat down on the same couch. Dave didn't wake. Or rather, knowing Dave, he was quite aware of who it was sitting on the couch, and probably had known since he got off the elevator, but just wasn't about to show that he was awake.

"Dave... were you ever in foster care?"

He grunted. "I'm tired, Hal. If you want to talk about the past, we can do that tomorrow."

"What did your foster father do?" Dave sat up and glared at Hal. The edge was taken out of it by the sleep that was still in his eyes. Hal looked away. "Well?"

Dave sighed. "Do you want the official reason, or the real one?"

Hal sighed and leaned back into the couch. "So it's true..."

"Yeah. Guy went nuts. He'd had too much to drink or something, tried to kill me and a couple of others. First person I killed, and I don't feel at all sorry about it."

"Funny how you drink anyways."

"How did this come up, Hal?"

Hal pulled the papers out of his pocket. "Where did you get these from, Dave?"

He shrugged. "Took 'em from somewhere."

He handed the White Knight paper to Dave. "Where?" he asked more pointedly.

Dave scanned the sheet. "Julie's," he said absently.

"You... you went to her house? I can't believe you did that."

Dave shrugged. "It seemed like a good way to find out if it was true about your father and Big Boss."

"How could you? Without telling me!"

"Relax, Hal. No harm done."

"No harm? Someone set us up to meet, did you know that? Did you even read these? Or did you just throw these at me to hurt me, figuring I'd probably find something tying back to her?"

"Oh, come on, Hal. You're the one who wanted to find out about your father."

"Someone used me. Someone used you! Don't you care about that at all?" He shook his head. "It was probably Big Boss somehow. Your genetics are more cursed than mine."

Dave laughed. "Hal, they were sleeping with each other. I don't think he'd have done a thing to hurt your dad or you."

Hal stared at Dave. "What are you talking about? He married Julie. I didn't come from nowhere. My dad was straight, no matter what your... your _progenitor_ was."

"Do you know what Julie did for a living? She was a shrink. She fucked your mind, while my dad fucked your dad. You know, she even says you were adopted."

"You know I look exactly like my dad. You know that's a hundred percent false. Why would you even bring that up?"

"They were _both_ at Chernobyl, Hal. Don't blame me if you don't like the radioactive waste you've stirred up with the mud at the bottom of the pond."

Hal stood up and slugged the great Solid Snake with all his might. Dave didn't even flinch. So Hal did it again. And again, and again, and again, until his arms were too tired to keep doing it.

Dave closed his eyes and took a breath, then he stood up and hugged Hal. "Sorry," he grunted. "I'm sorry, Hal." After a few brief moments, he patted Hal on the back and let go. "Let's go up and find out who was paying her, okay? I've got something that might be a bank account number," he said, offering it to Hal like candy to a child.

Hal was still breathing heavily, and didn't trust himself to speak, so he just nodded. It wasn't that he was forgiving Dave right now. Just that they had work to do.


	10. Bourbon and Scotch

There had been money in the account all right, and lots of it, at that. The last deposit had been made into the Swiss account a long time ago, a few months after Hal's father had died.

Hal had been in his seat staring blankly at the computer screen for the last fifteen minutes. He didn't know where to go from here. "I'm dead in the water," he mumbled.

Dave's arm fell on his shoulder and his hand on the computer table as he leaned over to look at what Hal had figured out. "So what have you found?"

Hal sighed and tried to ignore Dave's proximity. Things seemed to have taken on a slightly different meaning to Hal since Dave had made that comment about their respective fathers. "The account is a dead end. The account that fed it has been closed and erased from everyone's systems, must have been over ten years ago. If any accounts fed _that_ one, they've been closed and erased as well. There are simply no records left."

"Hm. What about the data on the Chernobyl disk?"

"Nothing reasonable. I mean, it's over 20 years old. They were doing too many missions in the late '70s and early '80s to count. The Columbian guerrilla war, the dirty war in Argentina, Egypt-Lybia, the Laotians, the Ugandans, the Yemenites, Falkland Islands, Chad... It was like they took every war and played both sides to get as much as they could. And in the middle of this, there's evidence of weapons research, biological stuff... I think they were working on gene therapy." Hal leaned back against the seat, and Dave's arm left as he leaned forward. "Chernobyl was in the section on sales."

"Okay," said Dave. "So who were they selling it to?"

"Remember that mission I went on?"

"Oh, great."

"I got a name from it, but..." Hal shook his head.

"That lead didn't pan out either, huh?"

"Nothing. There isn't even a birth certificate on Histo Ririte."

"That's not surprising. It's an obvious alias. Did you check in those databases?"

"Yup, I checked Interpol and the also-know-as in every country that has a computerized law enforcement scheme. But, nada. I'm out of leads on this one."

"Then there's just one place left. Outer Heaven."

Hal shook his head. "I don't even know what we're looking for, Dave. Why did Julie have files on us? How is Outer Heaven supposed to help?" Hal sighed. "You know, I've been thinking that maybe it'd be a good idea to just let this whole thing drop."

Dave stood up straight and looked sidelong at Hal. "You don't really want to do that. I know you."

Hal stood, letting out a breath. "I guess not. Maybe I'll think of something after I sleep for a while."

Dave patted his shoulder. "You can never completely erase your movements in the real world. I'm sure it's the same in the virtual."

"Yeah, but enough time passes, the trees and the moss aren't going to let anyone know you were there... I don't know, Dave. It's so long ago..."

"We'll figure it out," said Dave with a lopsided grin to his partner. The phone started ringing. "Oh, yeah, Tyler called."

Hal pursed his lips and threw an annoyed glance at Dave before picking up the phone. "Hello?"

"Philanthropy 31?"

"Yeah, hey, Tyler."

"You two should have called. We've gotten the interpol legalities straightened out, but I still want to know just what you've been doing."

"We've been following up on some leads," said Hal, massaging his forehead. Dave walked over and put the phone on speaker, taking the receiver and gently placing it in the cradle. "There's something pretty deep going on."

"From what I've heard, it has nothing to do with Metal Gear. You know our funding is for, 31. You know our backers aren't happy when they hear you're wasting it on personal issues."

"So it's one of our backers telling you this? Don't worry, we're pursuing some leads that we think are quite promising for finding Metal Gear development shops. I'm having trouble with the company though. They bought up a load of nuclear fuel, and you can bet it wasn't for generating power."

"So it is Metal Gear related? Good, something to tell the backers. What's the company?"

"Deeler Tech. I'd never heard of them before, but their research facilities were pretty impressive."

"I'll have someone else look into that then. I need the two of you to do something, and it's going to have to be tonight."

Hal grimaced. He hadn't slept in the past 2 days, and he was fairly sure Dave hadn't gotten more than a little catnap in the last 3... "Could you get someone else to do it?"

"The UN Headquarters are in New York, and I don't have time to have anyone fly down there."

"The UN? Is someone going to try bombing _them_?"

"Of course not, don't be absurd. The international community would go ballistic, literally. No, what I'm talking about is someone going down into their files to replace information."

"Look," said Dave, taking over for Hal. "This doesn't sound like it's something you need me for. The two of us need a good rest. Get someone else... That kid Raiden only lives 2 hours away. Give him some cash for it, let him find out."

"You know I hate hiring outsiders."

Dave sighed. "That may be, but to tell you the truth, we're not at our peak. If we'd known about this last week..."

"If I'd known about it last week, I could have had someone else fly in. Not that either of you answered your phone when I called about your status report last week. Where were you?"

"Okay, okay," said Hal. "We'll do it. When is this supposed to be going down?"

"Nine o'clock. This time, give me a report, will you?"

"Yeah, of course we will." Hal hung up, hoping that this way Tyler wouldn't try to give them even more work. "I was looking forward to sleeping."

Dave laughed. "Private sector: privacy guaranteed, overtime required!"

"They never say that in the help wanted section, do they..." Hal sighed and went back to the computer. "Okay, the UN buildings... you'll be in international territory, so if you get caught it's Interpol, not the NYPD. Not that you'd get caught, of course. The paper backups of the files are held..." Hal began typing, searching for information.

"It's already 7 o'clock. Find what you can. I'm going to get ready."

"Sure."

Half an hour later, Snake and Otacon were out of the house. Hal was sitting in the car on a side street in Turtle Bay. He was connected to the net through a throw-away cell phone, and to Snake through the CODEC system. Snake had already gone in and was right now making his way to the basement of the building.

They'd been lucky: when the renovations had been done on the building in 2006, they'd filed new plans with the city

[I'm in, Otacon.]

[Great. Anyone else there?]

[Not yet. I think I'll just find a good spot where I can watch the entrances, then wait for someone to show up.]

Otacon nodded, then remembered Snake couldn't see him. [Sounds like a plan. I'll be watching your back from here. According to my scans of the radar, there's no one around right now.]

Snake acknowledged, then cut his CODEC out. This was the part that Otacon really detested. Sitting around, doing nothing except watch a screen with not enough information on it...

His mind always tended to wander at times like these, and right now it had a lot of places that it wanted to go, even if Hal himself didn't want to go there. Like how Snake had said Big Boss was sleeping with Hal's father. Or how his stepmother had been sleeping with him for money. Or how he and Snake had met on purpose...

No, he didn't want to go to any of those places, especially not alone. Snake had stopped moving. [Snake, are you in a stable location?]

[Yeah. Anything happening?]

[No, I was just... thinking, and... well, if you wouldn't mind, maybe we could talk while we're waiting?]

Snake sighed from the other side of the CODEC. [A mission isn't the best time to talk, even if this mission isn't going to need my full attention...]

[I know. It's just...] Hal sighed.

[Starting to catch up with you, isn't it. All the stuff we've found out about your family.]

[Yeah. I mean... I just can't believe that my dad was... well, so involved with yours.]

[Against the whole idea, huh?]

[I don't know. I guess not. I mean, it wasn't my life, but... I mean, with our history, how could he have... I mean, even meeting someone like Big Boss is just...]

[Hm. Maybe they met in the business. If he did any weapons research...]

[Yeah. But I just hate the idea that I'm following in his footsteps.

[I'm not Big Boss, Otacon. It's not the same thing.]

[But Snake... A guy who could so carelessly steal nuclear material... How could I have grown up with someone so... so criminal, and not even known it?]

[You were a kid. Most kids focus on what's going on in their own lives.]

[I guess. Something else that's bothering me though. If he didn't love Julie... why did he kill himself? With the players involved, _did_ he kill himself?]

Snake sighed. [I-]

[Someone's on the monitor. I think it's started.]

[Gotcha.]

The dots on the monitor started moving. The pixels representing each person moved about, while Snake crept up behind each one and knocked them out, pausing at each for a moment before moving on to the next.

[Is there anyone else, Otacon?]

[No, just those four. Find out what they were going to replace, then get pictures of the original documents.]

There was a rustling of papers. [Strange...]

[What?]

[These are about Big Boss and your father. Then there's two code-named missions...]

[They're trying to cover the whole thing up... That means there _is_ more than what we thought!] Otacon felt vindicated. The work they'd done wasn't for nothing.

[I don't think that's it, Otacon.] Snake had opened up a filing cabinet and was going through it. [This is talking about him and your dad being together. No, your father isn't even _in_ the official records here. They were planting this for us to find...]

Otacon blinked a few times in confusion. [So then... this whole thing is just-]

[Big Boss is in here. No name, as usual.] Hal heard the distinctive click of the digital camera. [The two missions...] There was a little more rustling of papers. [Not here.]

Otacon sighed. [So none of it's real.]

[Seems like it.]

Otacon shook his head. [I don't know if I'm disappointed or relieved...]

[You shouldn't be either one. Someone went through a lot of work to get us to believe this. You can be sure it wasn't for our health.]

Otacon nodded. [So what do you want to do about it?]

[If I hadn't knocked these guys out, your informant might have sent another email. As things stand...]

Otacon sighed. [We want them to think they succeeded then. Take photos of the papers and give them back.]

[You want to _let them_ mess around with UN backup files?]

[It's just _one_ file.] Snake made a disparaging sound at the other end of the CODEC. [I'll deal with Philanthropy on it, okay?]

[Hm. I still don't like this idea.]

[Do you have a better one?] Snake's lack of response was answer enough. [Then do it.]


	11. Seven Minutes to Midnight

Dave was nearly hissing with rage. This had been someone's idea of a trap? Making his partner doubt himself and his parentage, making Hal think his father had had _anything_ to do with war...

If it had been true, Dave didn't think there was any reason to run from it, of course. Hell, he didn't run from the knowledge that he had been created from Big Boss. But these latest sheets of paper had been designed to knock Hal as off balance as they could.

First: Hal was a clone. Dave was a clone. They had been engineered, both genetically and socially, to be partners and lovers (and had they ever gotten _that_ one wrong, he'd thought sourly as Hal laughed at it).

Second: they weren't the only ones, they were just the first. There was a virtual army of them out there. The Daves of the program could easily be controlled by their Hals' kidnapping. They were all set up to work on covert missions in partners with all the zealous devotion of soldiers for the cause.

If they'd come upon this information without knowing it was false, Dave would have been watching to make sure Hal didn't kill himself by deciding it was all his fault and he had to be the one to go off and fix things. According to the papers, after all, it had been Arthur Emmerich who had designed the program, though he hadn't expected the one he'd taken as his own son to take part in it. Big Boss had funded the research, and the CIA had decided to take over after they found out about it through a leak.

Dave was ready to spit.

And where was this whole thing culminating? Where was the trap they had been so eagerly heading toward? Outer Heaven, of course, the place where their _own allies_ had said there was nothing.

He was so angry that he'd already figured out what he wanted to do. He wanted to go to the old Outer Heaven location and spring the damned trap. All he had to do now was convince Hal that it was the right move.

Speaking of his partner, Hal had been mumbling to himself for the past hour, going back and forth over all the sheets of paper and computer printouts they'd amassed. Time to distract him.

"Hey, Hal. Drop those for a bit. Let's go see a movie or something. It'll get your mind off the whole thing about your dad and this trap they've set for us."

He looked up in surprise, then shook his head and looked back at the papers. "It's not right. It just doesn't seem right at all..."

"No one likes knowing they've been played, now get your head out-"

"That's not what I mean, Dave. I mean this fake stuff, it just doesn't play."

"You mean you want to keep believing it despite the evidence to the contrary."

Hal shook his head and stood up. "No, look, I'll show you. See, this stuff all makes sense together. Not a single hole that you can find, right?"

"First, I get tipped about those databases, and find that my dad was working near Galzburg, which you tell me is Outer Heaven." Hal put the picture of Big Boss and Arthur Emmerich in Pripyat on the table. "Then these pictures. They were working together in Pripyat." He put the transcripts down. "We've got a conversation of it that seems entirely too accurate. I go to the place where they're supposed to have been selling the nuclear material, and find a research lab and guards everywhere."

"So they did a really good job."

"Wait, okay? Then you go off to- _Julie's_... and find these. Here's you, here's me, here's my dad, here's Big Boss..." He rustled the rest of them. "These two are probably your brothers. Politician would be Solidus, since he was the president, and Black Knight must be Liquid. Then the rest of these, I don't know who they are, but Confederate sounds like it's got some sort of ties to the Patriots. The last three are only connected through him, which might mean they are the patriots..."

"I'm not getting your point, Otacon," said Dave with a shake of his head.

"That's at least four points of contact, five if you include the talk you had with Julie, which she would have had to be prepped for. And a possible sixth if either of us had recognized the location of the other photo, or maybe even more if the other photos had printed. I mean, to do this, logistically you'd need more resources than I would dare to speculate on."

Dave was getting impatient. "And?"

Hal put his hands down on the table. "So the question, Dave, is: with all the resources they're putting into this, why would they make a mistake now?"

Dave frowned. "Good question." He took the printouts of new 'information' they had obtained at the UN. "It's possible they had a leak. Someone tipped Philanthropy."

"What if this is the truth, and someone's trying to make sure we don't believe it?"

Snake sat down and shook his head. "You're going to have to give me more than this to make me believe someone's doing that."

Hal sat down next to him, looking determinedly at the papers on the table. "What _would_ convince you?"

Snake leaned back and nodded. Another good question. What would have happened if they hadn't found the guys who were planting it? They would have thought it real unless it could be proved fake. "What did they have in those two missions that was supposed to have happened? I mean, something we can check on."

"Hm. Cloning labs in Outer Heaven? That could be proven false pretty easily. I mean, we already had the guys from the South African teams check things out."

"And they didn't find a thing. But we'd probably be able to justify that one pretty easily. They just moved, or we couldn't get into the old Outer Heaven base itself. What else is there?"

"Well, we wouldn't really be able to verify the thing about dozens of us running around."

"No, we couldn't say that was true or false, so it would be completely useless."

"I don't know... I'm a clone can't exactly be tested..."

Dave smirked, a certain glint in his eyes as he pulled the hair sample Julie had given him. "Yeah, we could test that."

Hal looked at him in disbelief before comprehension finally dawned on him. "You got that from Julie's too? Snake!"

"I told her I was an insurance agent, and that we needed to figure out if your dad was who we thought he was. A promise of ten million pounds makes people give you things they might not ordinarily give you."

"And they knew about the vials of blood you got from there, so they must have known about this too! You see, Dave, they planted this in there so that it would be just believable enough that when we tested every angle, we'd come up with a flaw!"

"Hm." Dave nodded. "Unless, of course, you really are a clone."

Hal lifted an eyebrow. "What?"

"Well, if the whole thing is true, then your dad and my dad were together. So unless he was bi, your father wouldn't have had you for a kid, right?"

Hal crossed his arms, looking a little peeved. "And I'm sure Julie gave you the real thing, right?"

Dave shrugged. "Right or wrong, you could prove it with a simple genetic test. If it comes back saying it's your own hair, then everything's up in the air still. But if it comes back saying it's not, then at least you know the UN thing was the real trick."

Hal frowned and stared at the hair, so Dave decided to take another look. It had a few greys scattered in with it. Hal was just starting to get a little bit of grey in his hair, but there was quite a bit more in this.

"Come on Hal. You can't be scared of the results, can you?"

"Of course not." Hal stood up and grabbed the hair sample. "I'll send it out to one of the labs we've used before, and I'll pay them enough to have the results in under two hours."

Hal went to the phone and brusquely made some arrangements. "A courier will be here in about ten minutes." He walked into the kitchen area and tossed Dave a roll of masking tape and a little bag. "Get one or two strands into the bag and label it. We'll save the rest in case we want to retest anything." Dave did as he was told, labeling the sample with the letter A.

Hal came out with a sample of his own hair in a similar baggy, as well as an envelope. He took the tape and marked the sample 'H,' then put the two samples inside the envelope.

"Happy?"

"You're really touchy about this, aren't you. You think there's something wrong with being a clone of someone?"

Hal paused and looked at Dave. "No, of course not," he said, looking away. "But I'm not a clone. I'm not him."

"You know, we're all more than just our genetics."

"Yeah," said Hal, a little sarcastically. "We're also a product of how we were raised."

"Okay." Dave sighed inwardly. Hal was going to be very difficult about all of this, wasn't he... "Is there anything else here? The hair could just be yours, after all."

Hal didn't look particularly mollified, but apparently he was willing to keep looking anyways. "Well... anyone who knows us knows that I've been into the CIA databases at least a million times. I could check there pretty easily to see if the CIA has any details about this whole thing."

There was a knock at the door. "Must be the courier."

"I'll get it, Hal. Just in case." Dave stood and walked to the door, opening it to see a fairly lanky young man in a courier's uniform. Of course, nothing interesting.

"You here for the pick-up?" asked Hal from behind him.

"Yes, sir. You're Mr. Arthur Danzinger?"

"Yeah, that's me." Hal handed him the envelope along with a fifty. "Get it there fast, okay? Time sensitive."

"You got it, man."

Hal closed the door. "You worry too much, Dave."

Dave shrugged. Hal might be the so-called brains of the operation, but Dave was the security force and as such, felt that he had the right to be paranoid. Still... "You're figuring we've got one of two conspiracies being leveled against us and you're not going to worry?"

"Life's too short to worry about every little thing."

"Yeah, if you open every door without looking through the peep hole it is. Well, you check up on the CIA stuff. I'll see if I can find any holes or inconsistencies in the rest of this stuff."

"You got it." Hal went to his computer and started typing while Dave flipped through the pages of the various missions, trying to find anything out of place.

The dates were all right, in terms of when everything happened. None of the missions Arthur and Boss had taken were outside of the dates from the wars they were associated with. None of them had overlapping days, although they all seemed to have been taken very close to each other. Most of them seemed to have been designed to lower the power of both parties involved in the conflict, though it might have only been apparent through hindsight.

An hour and a half later, Hal had finished with a triumphant little laugh. "There's nothing here on the CIA databases, Dave."

Dave nodded. "I haven't found any inconsistencies either. Looks like someone played a little joke on us." His eyes narrowed. "And we're going to need to find out who."

"Well, they'll probably email me, and I can trace them from there. As long as no one's put another-"

The phone rang, and Hal grabbed it. "Hello, Philanthropy 31. Yeah." He paused. "Really? Maybe we screwed up in what we gave you. I guess it must have been from..." There was another, longer pause. "You can tell that? I mean... Well, are you sure that was the H sample?" Dave went to the phone to press the speaker option, but Hal waved his hand away. "Yeah, that's just pretty unexpected. Are you sure that's-" The pause went on for quite a while this time. Hal's face fell slightly. "Yeah, I- I don't see a way either, if you're sure... Well, thanks for the analysis, then. We really appreciate it, and the money has already been sent to your accounts." Hal rubbed his eyes. "Yeah, thanks again. We'll call you the next time we need something." He hung up the phone.

"Well?" asked Dave, curious.

Hal sat quietly for a moment, then got up and got his jacket. "Where are you going, Hal?"

"To get a drink."

"Sit down, Hal." Dave stood between Hal and the door. "You don't even know where the nearest bar is."

"So I'll find one. I don't want to talk to you right now, okay?"

Not okay. "So then, we won't talk, you can just have the drink." Hal was a talker when he was drunk. "Look, I got some Crown Royale up in Canada. Nice single malt whiskey..." Not that Hal knew the difference between a good whiskey and a lousy scotch... "Get you drunk faster than beer."

Hal looked between Dave and the door, then sighed and took his jacket off. Dave threw him a half-smile, then grabbed the liquor from his room. He poured a little bit into two glasses and gave one to Hal, keeping the other for himself. "You want ice?"

He glanced at Hal, who had already downed it. "No, liquor's liquor. Just pour me some more."

Dave nodded. "Sit down," he ordered. Dave cleared the evidence papers off of the table, then sat down himself. He poured Hal another drink, a little larger than the last. "Go easy, okay?"

"I'm fine," said Hal, downing it.

"It's a lot stronger than the American beer you're used to drinking, Hal."

"Hmph."

Dave poured Hal another, and gave himself another glassful while he was at it. How to get Hal to talk... there was the question... Dave drank his whiskey, then poured some more for them.

"We could get another analysis if you want," Dave offered tentatively.

"What's the point...? It's not gonna change anything. I shouldn't even be upset about it right? I mean, you've lived with it for years, and it doesn't bother you... Give me some more, will ya?"

Dave poured another glass for Hal and himself. Hal drank his too quickly, so Dave followed suit and poured again. At the rate they were going, they were going to finish the bottle before the hour was up...

"When d'you find out you were a clone, Dave?" Hal's speech was beginning to slur. His own was probably almost to that point. Dave hadn't eaten in a while, after all...

"Shadow Moses. I thought I was just Big Boss' kid before that."

"Hm. Y'know, 5 years ago, they couln't even do a DNA test on hair. Now look. They c'n see... radioactivity, 'nd... exposure to chemicals..." Dave poured them both a little more, almost spilling it. He was glad he'd moved the papers. "I mean, ten years ago, hair samples didn't tell much of anything, y'know that Dave? Couldn't tell... whether things were internal or external... didn't know how long they stayed..."

"And now?" Dave watched as Hal chugged it back again. The bottle was going to be empty real soon now.

"Now they c'n tell ya... this chemical is life long after s'posure... this radioctive isetope lasts f'rever in human hair... genes are zacly the same..."

"They can tell you gibberish?"

"Nah, Dave... you gotta be a bit more literate in the sciences, y'know... means they can tell if the hair came from different sources even if it's genticly simlar." Hal yawned. "I think... I need more of that... whiskey stuff. My glass is empty."

"'S half-full, Hal." Hal downed it. "Okay, Hal, but then no more. So, 's that mean... wha's that mean, really?"

"See, my hair," said Hal, pointing vaguely to his head. "'s got no... whassit... m, radioactive iodine indict- indic... thingies. Dad's hair's got it though. Makes sense, right, him being in Chernobyl when it 'sploded. But my hair, it doesn't got any radio iodine thingies. And I just took it now, so if dad's hair were my hair, it still woulda had the same thingies, right? So it's not my hair, but it's the same."

"Genetic'ly, y'mean?"

"Right." Hal tossed the whiskey down his throat. "Right. So that means that I'm a whassit. Like you. Clone."

"Bein' a clone's not so bad. Still make yer own choices, live yer own life. Not so bad, Hal," said Dave, throwing his arm over Hal's shoulders.

"You... you're my bes' frien' Dave, but... I mean, wha's the diff'r'nce 'tween us and them? They worked together... prob'ly lived together sometimes... Maybe even thought they were doing somethin' good for the whole world! I want to do something good for the whole world..."

"We are. We stop Metal Gears, prevent wars..."

"No... every Metal Gear we destroy... it's like in that musical cartoon, when the mouse is breakin' the brooms. They jus'... keep gettin' up. Multiplyin'. Only the wizard guy knows how to stop 'em for real. Mouse, he jus'... he's gotta try 'n' stop 'em, even though he knows he can't... See, we're jus' like the mouse..."

"Naw, Hal." Dave pulled his friend closer. "We're fightin' for what we _believe_ in. We wouldn't... go do that Chernobyl thing... or blackout the eastern seaboard... we're _protecting_ people."

"Oh Dave," Hal said with a strangled sob. "That's 'sactly what was in the files on us. We go protectin' people, think we c'n save the world and it's really jus' made up by some witch in 'ngland... Everythin's just... _programmed in!_ "

"Aw, Hal... don't go cryin'..." He pulled Hal to his chest. If the guy had to cry, at least Dave didn't have to see it. "We're okay, y'know..."

"Yeah, I guess. You... you really are my bes' friend, Dave. My only real friend, ever..."

"You too, Hal. Best friends in the whole world." He chuckled. "See, you can't jus' program in friendship, right? 'F you could do that, you coulda made a HAL for real, right?"

"I _am_ the best!" Hal laughed and pulled away, looking up to Dave. "Dave?" He looked at Hal's face, amazed at how quickly he'd become serious again.

"Yeah?"

"'F it's not... you know, genetics, or social enge... eng... neering that decides who we are, what d'ya think it is?"

"I think... we all have something deep inside that tells us who we are. Like a soul, something that's unique to us. Something that no one can control unless you let them."

"Oh." Hal tilted his head to the side. "You sure guys like us have one though? I mean, coming from guys who musta sold their souls to the devil..."

"'Specially 'cause of that. If you don't have that spark inside you that's just you... You can't... love anyone, or... you know."

"I loved Emma..."

"Nah, not that way. Not like a sister, I mean-"

"Like Sniper Wolf then, right?"

"No, Hal... that was jus'... you know, Stockholme's..."

"Was not. I loved her."

"If you say so."

"You mean like my dad and Big Boss. Like you and me 'r s'posed to be."

Dave shrugged. "You don't gotta say that."

"'S what you mean. But we couldn't. We'd just be followin' them. I don't want to follow 'em, Dave." Hal's eyes were unfocussed. "Why do they gotta go and mess up things? Limit everthin'..."

"Don't let _them_ set your limits. You gotta... you gotta live your own life, not worry 'bout how anyone else lived theirs..."

"Yeah. I guess you're right. You're right too offen, Dave... I thin'... I should go t... t' bed..."

"Yeah. You look beat." Dave was having trouble keeping himself upright, too. "Come on, I'll help ya."

"I don't need help t..." Hal stood up and nearly fell over, steadying himself on the chair just before he did. "Maybe jus' a little." Dave got up and grabbed Hal beneath his arms, and led him to his bedroom.


	12. Identity Crisis

Hal's hands were fumbling in the darkness. He felt cold and hot and dizzy. He wasn't himself in the darkness, and Dave wasn't Dave any more. Not here and now. "Help me... I can't take this off."

"Aw, Hal." He sat heavily on the bed beside him. His fingers were also clumsy as they reached for the zipper on his shirt, pulling it down. "You gotta drink more regularly. Or don't drink at all."

"Hm. Yeah, mebbe..." His hand went to the other man's face. "You need a shave."

The other man's hands went to his face with a loud slap, then moved around. "Not sure my hands are steady enough for that."

"S'okay. Kinda like it." Here in the darkness, it wasn't the same as in the light. Everything was different. He moved in the darkness, hitting his friend's nose with his teeth.

"Hal?"

"No... don't call me that..."

The hands helped him get the shirt off. "What should I be calling you?"

It wasn't the same when it was light. When the lights were on and reality was only an open eye away, the darkness didn't help him, couldn't stop him from seeing what was there. But here in the dark, things weren't black and white. They were all smooth. "I'm... Arthur..."

The other man's hands pulled away again, and Arthur's moved toward them, fuzzy and indistinct like an antique black and white movie. "Are you ever drunk..." There was an unfocused smile behind the bleary words.

"And you're... the Boss..." In the dark, and in the haze, it made sense. It was all right. Being these people, not being those other people... the originals, not controlled, not held back...

"Hal," said Boss, poking Hal in the chest. "And Dave," said Dave, pointing Hal's hand at him in the darkness. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

Hal shook his head. "We can be... I can be..." Arthur moved closer, putting the other man's face in his hands, moving to kiss him. He was soft, and tasted as sweet and bitter as the whiskey they'd been drinking.

"I don't want Arthur," he said quietly.

"Hal, Arthur, there's no difference."

"Big difference between Boss and Dave." Arthur's hand moved down over the cloth on Boss' chest.

"Not in the dark." Arthur's hands moved with steadiness Hal's wouldn't have possessed, as Dave sat quietly. Finally, his hands took a role as well, pulling the shirt slowly from Arthur.

"This is... what you want?"

"Be... be the Boss... be my Boss..." Arthur's hands kept moving down.

Dave's hands went to Arthur's bottoms and pulled them down slowly and clumsily. "I told you, I don't want Arthur, Hal."

Hal's mind became more misty as Dave touched him, but the darkness was even more intoxicating, and Hal didn't belong in the dark. He pulled the zipper down on Dave's pants, then put his hands into the underwear to gently touch Dave before taking his hands away. "Hal's not here, Dave. But if you don't want Arthur, I understand." He put his hands on Dave's, which were still fondling him.

Dave's hands turned to catch his. "All right, we can play. What do you want, Arthur?"

What did he want? He wanted... to blow up the world, or maybe to save it. He wanted to see himself in the throes of passion, writhing under the touch of a person who cared for him. He wanted to feel the power that came from killing a man with your bare hands, the power of a man who could restrain himself and keep control over himself at all times. He wanted... "You."

Dave's hands pulled the pants and the boxers off of him, cool fingers guiding the restrictive items away. Arthur's fingers moved to his Boss' lower clothing and pulled, feeling instead of seeing as the polyester and cotton blend slowly slid in the shadowy darkness.

"Hal..."

Hal turned adoring eyes up toward the outline of the Boss' face. Dave cupped Arthur's face in his hands. "Boss?" The other face dipped down to pull a kiss out of Hal.

"Tell me you love me," he said, a burnt demand, fueled by whiskey and lit by the desire they both felt.

"I... Arthur loves the Boss, so I..."

"Tell me Hal loves Dave, or Otacon loves Snake. Don't tell me about Arthur," he whispered into Hal's ear.

His hands stroked Hal's hair, dragging down farther each time. To his neck, then the middle of his back, then the small of his back... "I love you," said Arthur breathlessly.

"I love you, too," said Dave roughly, pulling Arthur to him, embracing him, kissing him passionately. "You don't know how long..."

Hal's eyes closed and his head fell gently onto Boss' shoulder. Arthur felt himself falling backwards onto the bed, pillow under his neck.

His arms went under Dave's shirt, tracing the scars one by one. The Boss had gone still, holding himself steady above him while he explored. "So many," whispered Hal. "Feels like so many more than I've seen..." He felt like the moon in the dark, marked by gunshots like meteors, knife wounds like angry ridges... "All the darkness of the universe set against you..."

Dave hovered above him with one hand holding himself up while the other traced the expanse of blemishless skin on Hal's chest. Arthur's would have been marked... Hal didn't belong in the dark.

Arthur's hands pulled Dave's away. "Let's not wait," he said, guiding the hands towards his lower self.

The Boss kissed his lips as he touched, electricity running through each finger. Arthur's fingers moved too, strengthening with each motion. Dave was hardening at his touch, and the thought excited Hal's alcohol ridden mind. He felt powerful himself by having this control over the man above him. With a single word, he knew he could stop everything. With a single word, he could defang the infamous Snake...

Right now, that power was more important than anything he could give him. And so Arthur, Hal, whoever he was right now, he took it.

"Stop," he whispered. Hal's hands fell away from Dave while Dave stared at him, his eyes widened in surprise, his breathing quick and harsh.

"Stop?" The boss asked quietly.

"We're drunk. I'll regret it."

Dave's breathing caught and he pulled himself away slowly. "God... Hal... How can you..."

"Told you already..." He sat up and pushed the Boss away. Dave was so off balanced that he allowed it. "That I'm Arthur right now."

Dave stared at Hal in disbelief for a few moments, then stood and took his clothes, padding back to his own room. The dark was where he belonged.

Hal and Dave could keep the daylight.

This fuzzy black was Arthur's.


	13. In Brief

Hal woke the next morning with bleary eyes and a pounding ache in his head. His stomach didn't feel well either. He got out of the bed, rubbing his eyes and grimacing as his middle did a summersault. How exactly he'd stumbled to bed the night before he couldn't have guessed, but he'd somehow gotten all his clothes off and they'd been dumped on the floor.

Hal put his hand against the wall to steady himself, then walked to the dresser, pulling a pair of boxers out of the drawers. His back was against the wall as he pulled them up, and he almost fell forwards when he had to move to bring them up to his waist. He groaned.

"Dave," he said to himself, "you'd better not say a single word..." He pulled out a pair of pants and a sweater, pulling the warm fuzziness over his head. His head was pounding. "I wonder if I can just go back to bed? No, then he really will say something..."

Hal pushed the door open to see Dave sitting at the table, going over the evidence again. "Hey, Dave," said Hal quietly as he sat down across from him. "Does aspirin work on a hangover?"

Dave looked up at him, not much sympathy on his face. "You feel nauseous?"

"Yeah."

He looked back down at the work. "Then don't take an aspirin. Just drink water." One half of his mouth turned up in a smirk. "Or take some Diazepam."

"Okay," said Hal slowly. Dave had looked a bit annoyed. They'd started drinking Snake's 'expensive whiskey' last night, and he didn't see it around. Had they had the whole thing? "About last night..."

Snake looked up and put the papers down. "Yeah?"

"Look, I'll pay you back for the bottle, if it bothers you." Dave stared at him for a few moments before getting up and getting a glass of water from the kitchen.

"Drink the water," he ordered. Hal tried to raise an eyebrow before realizing that facial movement was aggravating his headache. He took the water and took a small sip. "You don't remember last night, do you."

Hal looked up, concerned. "There's something to remember?"

Snake smirked. "Sure, we got a couple of girls up, had a party..." He laughed at Hal's horrified look. "No, Hal, nothing happened. You think your security guard would have let you go out drunk after making the effort to keep you here in the first place?"

Hal laughed too, a bit relieved. "No, of course you wouldn't. Just the way you said that..." There was something important though... Hal stopped laughing. "You kept me here so you could find out what they told me," he accused.

"Among other things, yes, I did. And don't you feel better for getting it off you chest?"

"Not even hardly. You knew I didn't want to discuss it. Why did you have to press it?" Hal shook his head. "You are such a control freak."

"Well, I-" Dave paused, and Hal took a gulp of the water. "I guess it's a part of being what I am. If you're in control of things, you don't get hurt..." Dave sighed. "Bet that's what last night was about."

"Huh?"

He shook his head. "Never mind, Hal. I've been thinking about what we need to do, where to go from here, and I've come to a conclusion. I'm going to go to Outer Heaven."

"Okay. We're going to Outer Heaven."

"Hal."

"Oh, don't argue with me. I've got what is probably the worst headache I've had since engineering, and you know that even if you win I'll find a way to show up there."

Dave shook his head. "Yeah, you seem to show up at just the wrong time, too. I don't think you should go."

"Too bad, I'm coming." Hal drank the rest of the water, suddenly realizing how thirsty he was. "Is there anything you're expecting to find there?"

Dave shrugged. "Token trap." He put down some new printouts Hal hadn't seen before and pointed. "This is where Outer Heaven was. I had Mei Ling get the data for me. On here, you can see some of where the base was. There are a lot of rooms on this map that I don't remember being in."

"So you think there could be actual information?"

"Yeah. Intel that someone doesn't want us to see. They'll have the trap set up there so that we think that's all it is. They'll know I'd check. After all," said Dave with a little grimace, "they've done a lot of research on us."

"Good reason to take me along. They won't expect that," Hal said with a small, sad smile. Dave patted Hal on the back. Hal stood up and walked to the kitchen. He poured himself another glass of water and leaned against the countertop. Dave followed him into the kitchen. "You think we can get there with a rental ATV or something?"

"Well, it's definitely not something I'd do normally." Dave nodded. "Anyways, we'll need to obtain C4 to get into those rooms, and we'll need to get new modified M9s."

Hal nodded. "Yeah. You mind if we work on this tomorrow? I'm really not feeling good."

Dave smirked. "Don't worry. I'll get started, and you can help work on it later. Meantime, you look like you're about to need a trip to the bathroom. There should be some Diazepam in there."

Three days later, Snake was briefing Otacon on the mission by CODEC as the two of them sat in the plane going to Johannesburg, South Africa. Otacon felt bad for not having played a bigger part in planning, but as Snake had said, it was better for them to try to do exactly what they were expected to do.

[When we get to South Africa, the first part of the plan is going to be to get to Zimbabwe. We'll take a bus from there into Harare, and get an ATV there.]

Snake took out a map that at first glance appeared to be a cheap, ordinary tourist's map. Looking more closely, you could see great swathes of land that had been outlined and colored, mimicking what had shown on the satellite photos.

[Galzburg,] said Snake, [isn't actually in Zimbabwe. It's in Zambia, right off the Zambezi river. There are a lot of mines in the area, according to the surveillance photos. More than when I went there, actually, and I'm a little surprised, since Zambia has had an upsurge in tourists since 1998.]

[Tourists? What's there to see in Zambia?]

[Other than the Zambezi? Well, they share Victoria Falls, and they don't have warnings against them the way that Zimbabwe and Mozambique do.]

[Okay. So when did the mines get placed? I mean, if they don't have a warning against them...]

[There were some when I did the Outer Heaven mission. I'd be willing to bet that the rest have been placed as part of the trap they've set for us.]

Hal nodded. [So what's the plan on getting in?]

[I doubt they'll have the kind of security they did when it was a full fledged military base, so we won't need to go swimming.]

[Good thing, too. I doubt I could swim the way that you can.] Snake laughed out loud, causing the other passengers to stare at him. [Okay, enough laughing at my expense. So once we get there what are we going do?]

Snake's poker face returned. [Once we're in, I'm going to secure a place for you, and _you_ are going to _stay_ there. Got me?]

[You're setting up the mission,] said Hal, clearly unhappy but thankfully no arguing.

[I'm going to try to find a room with computers. You'll probably find it all simple since it's 1995 technology. Unless the trap includes new computers and so on, which is possible.] Snake closed the tourist map and opened up a hand drawn diagram filled with boxes and notations. [Here, here and here. These are sections that I don't remember visiting when I was there for N313. I'm going to try to get into them, and hopefully you will be able to figure out what they are from the computers.]

[How did you draw all that?]

[Those new satellite shots you got me, and memory,] said Snake with a little smirk. [I remember every mission I've taken.] His smile fell a little. [Right down to the last man killed...]

[Snake...]

[Yeah, the mission. Okay, so I think they might have whatever it is set up here. This is where the Metal Gear was back then. Not so good as your design.]

[Thanks, I guess.]

[Yours had personality.] Snake threw Otacon a smile. [This is where I fought Big Boss himself. See this little section? I'm guessing I didn't explore it because there was no time after defeating Big Boss.]

[I thought that the base collapsed, or blew up or something.]

Snake nodded. [Well, I'm not sure. I thought it was heavily damaged after everything was said and done, but from the new scans... of course, they may be faulty...]

[Don't second guess things, Snake. You know how missions go. We'll have plenty to second guess there.]

Snake glanced sidelong at his partner. [A successful mission wouldn't have that happen.]

[I guess. So that's what you're going to focus on?]

[Yeah. We'll keep in contact through CODEC. If I need you to come somewhere, I'll come and get you. No wandering around, Otacon, got it?]

[Relax. This is your mission. I'm not going to screw it up. I wish you could have a cigarette and stop bothering me about leaving whatever boring place you put me.]

Snake grunted. [Sometimes, Otacon, I wonder if you really take anything seriously enough.]

[Of course I do. But you overreact. I don't really want to argue about this.]

Snake nodded. [Fine, let's not then.] He folded the diagram up. [Should take us about a day to get up there. We'll sleep once we get to Victoria Falls. If there's no one there, I'll be able to cover the place in about a day. Then, I'll have you check it over with me. You might find something I don't.]

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are beginning our final descent. At this time, I would ask that you return to your seats, buckle your seatbelts and place your seats in the full upright position."

[Almost time to start the show.] "Got the passports ready?"

Hal patted his pocket. "Right here, Mr. Raigyo."

"Good. You settle things for me with customs and the visa. I'm going to go spend some money." Snake smiled, an arrogant smile that only one comfortable with his enormous wealth could smile.

"Of course, Mr. Raigyo," said Otacon, a smile plastered on his own face. "Anything you say, Mr. Raigyo."

[Now I see why you love planning missions.]

[Shut up.]


	14. La Sagrada Familia

Things were going as planned for once, and Snake was feeling quite proud of himself. For the first time in a long time, he had planned his own mission, and he'd far outdone anything Otacon could have done.

It disturbed him a little to know that there really wasn't anyone left in Outer Heaven, but Otacon's search through the files had panned out: false information leading to an obvious dead-end was just the sort of thing someone might give to lead them off the tracks.

Almost everything on the databases had been deleted, according to Hal, meaning that they already had the best evidence they were going to get in the form of the Chernobyl disc.

The rooms he'd gotten into hadn't had any new information. Snake had been surprised at that. It seemed that they'd tailored everything to give the appearance that they'd left, without a single clue being left behind.

 _Well, I guess I've done all I can alone._ [Otacon, you ready to come and help me give this place another check?]

[Sure, Snake. Can I come to where you are, or-] There was some noise on the other end, then a claxon started going off through the compound.

[What's going on? Otacon?] Snake pulled out his gun. This had to be it. [Otacon, respond!]

[Just a _sec..._ ]

The alarm turned off, leaving Snake standing in the confusing silence. [False alarm?]

[No, and I didn't turn it off, either. I'm under a table, if you must know.] Snake stifled a grin. This was a mission, and Otacon might be in danger, so it was no time for humor. [All the monitors suddenly lit up, and I saw... I don't know how many. They're wearing American colors, and-] Otacon paused.

Snake decided to start moving. Best to assume they were in control of Outer Heaven. He glanced around the corner and started making his way towards Otacon.

The military personel were gone. A jammer had cut his CODEC off from Snake's. And now there were footsteps walking closer to him.

"I know you're here. Solid's partner." The voice, raspy and accented, slid through the room like an eel. A half-remembered voice from a nightmare... Otacon took hold of the M9 Snake had forced him to carry, hands shaking.

 _Just like in the sims, just like in the sims... I get out, I call Snake..._ Hal watched as the feet walked slowly past the table.

"Do you know who I am?"

Otacon crawled to the edge of the table. _Get to the door, run out. This is just like a simulation. A very scary, very realistic simulation. Maybe I should just stay here..._

"I am Revolver Ocelot. I'm not here to kill you. Come out, come out wherever you are," he said, adding a creepy musical lilt to his voice for the call.

 _Not going to kill me? Yeah right..._ Otacon looked at the door. _I'll never make it. But I'm not safe here, either... Snake, where are you?_

The footsteps stopped at the edge of the table. "Hm. Where could you be hiding... Under a chair? Or perhaps, under the table." He kicked and the table flipped backwards, leaving Hal staring wide eyed at it.

Otacon dropped the gun. His hands were still shaking as he turned to look at Revolver Ocelot, but he was proud that the rest of his body wasn't. He'd face death like a man. Kind of almost like Snake would.

He clenched his teeth so his face wouldn't tremble and swallowed.

"You look like him," said Ocelot with a smirk. He put his gun away with a twirl. Ocelot started walking towards him. "I wonder how alike you are."

Snake waited as the soldiers in the hallway fell into sleep under the guiding chemicals of his M9. They were dressed in US military colors, but there was something off about them. He walked amongst them, careful not to wake them, noting things as he passed.

For one thing, the guns they were using looked a little old. About three years too old for American military budgets. The calluses on their hands looked like they were more used to holding machine guns than the handguns and semi-automatics they were using now.

They weren't US military, or at least, not the standard rank and file they were pretending to be. He had a lot of ground to cover. He grabbed one of the handguns. He could incapacitate better with this once the M9s ammo ran out.

Speaking of incapacitation... Snake ducked back around a corner, then jumped out and fired the tranquilizer rounds into the necks of three more soldiers. They went out like lights.

Snake pressed forwards, ducking in and out of rooms to avoid the passing guards. It was surprisingly simple to do: at the Big Shell, formations had been tight as funeral drums. When he'd seen the American militias, they'd never been quite as well trained, but this wasn't right either.

The formations they were using weren't reminding him of American troop coverage motions. This was more like a disparate group of mercs who hadn't had the chance to work together. These men didn't know the moves of the others. They weren't properly disciplined to work with each other.

Snake had no doubt that these men could fight, but fighting together was another story...

The next turn put him directly in front of an enemy. He punched and kicked twice, then found he way behind the man and held him in a sleeper hold for a few seconds before dropping him and disabling the man's radio.

Still too much ground to cover between him and Otacon... he should have put his tech in a more central location...

"What do you want?" asked Hal, his voice only quavering a little as he stared up at the mercenary.

"You're a lot like him... terrified of being in the same room as someone like me. But he would have tried taking a shot. Yes." Slick as oil, Ocelot's voice passed over Hal, and Hal wished he could melt through the table.

Ocelot walked closer and closer until he was standing almost on top of Hal, then he bent and put his arms on the table to either side of Hal's head. Hal kept his eyes open by sheer will, locked to Ocelot's. He could smell the mercenary's sweat and his breath mingled with Hal's own.

"What do you want?" asked Hal, his voice sounding smaller than before.

Ocelot's eyes were unwavering, and Hal closed his tightly to keep himself from having to see the pale blue eyes staring into his own. "I knew them both, you know. You don't measure up."

Hal swallowed. To be told that... by this man, was it really so bad? He didn't want to be someone that Revolver Ocelot admired...

"He wouldn't have been scared by this," said the gunman into his ear. "He would have been angry. Or turned on." Hal could hear the snide smile in the other man's voice and his eyes snapped open. "Your father... he was _quite_ the man."

"I don't believe you." Hal's mouth pressed closed tightly. Hal's hand began drifting towards the M9. _I'll shoot him. My father wouldn't have... what he's implying... if he was with Big Boss, he would have stayed with him!_

"I told him to raise you properly," he said into Hal's ear, whispered almost, sending shivers up Hal's back. "But he didn't want his son involved in war. He _made_ you to be controlled."

"That was Julie," said Hal in a horrified whisper, his hand still moving towards the gun he'd dropped earlier.

"No, she made you what you are today. He would have had you as someone different. If he'd known the plan, he wouldn't have let himself get killed."

"Let himself..." Hal's hand stopped, fingers half-curled around the hilt.

Ocelot pulled away. "Enough reminiscing. I'd rather not be shot by your toy there, and shooting you might compromise our plans. Get up."

Snake was more than halfway back to Otacon's last known position when the explosion rocked the compound. Several mercs ran past him, converging on the location, and Snake paused. Follow them, or continue towards Otacon?

 _Let them deal with it._ Snake ignored the mercenaries as they went by, focusing instead on finding his partner. Even if these people didn't work together like the original Outer Heaven mercenaries had, they were professionals and could take care of themselves. Unlike Otacon.

The claxons started up again, and this time were not promptly turned off. Snake's head snapped up. Gunfire ahead of him? He put the M9 away, even though it still had over a dozen bullets. The real gun would be better for a firefight, though not much better. He'd have to pick up something better along the way.

He ran down the hall. Who knew what trouble Otacon was getting into right now? He peeked around the corner to see what was going on. The next room was big, and it was the source, or at least a source of the harsh _bang-bang-bang_ of semi-automatics and the staccato rolling drumbeats of fully-automatics.

The newest members of the little party in Outer Heaven were dressed like the old mercenaries that had used this place as a base. Figured that he had to get through the ones who looked more organized.

Snake flattened himself against the wall and made sure the gun he'd picked up was loaded. _One... two... three!_ He jumped out from his cover and fired, dropping one of the Outer Heaven mercenaries before taking up his position again.

Ten of them, and fifteen of the American dressed. This would take some time...

Revolver Ocelot's gun was out, but it wasn't pointing at Otacon. In fact, he had been pushed aside while Revolver Ocelot sent bullets flying with precision that Otacon thought probably rivaled Snake's.

Not that he was watching very carefully. He was much more concerned with not seeing the fighter and his uncanny aim. Otacon was trying to see if there was an option of leaving, but the sound of gunfire was too loud and he didn't know how to localize it. There was no direction to any of the sound except for Ocelot's, and that was quickly blowing his ears.

When Ocelot finished shooting and said something to him, Otacon couldn't even tell what he was saying. He just covered his head and ears with his arms and closed his eyes. Ocelot pulled him to his feet by his collar, and Otacon opened his eyes as Ocelot started dragging him to wherever they were going.

He'd tried the CODEC as soon as the firing began, but it was still out. Maybe that wasn't even Ocelot's doing, considering the fact that he was currently being protected by the crazed gunman. Otacon glanced at Ocelot's arm. Who knew how long that would last? Although, Liquid hadn't tried to kill him until he'd been in the truck with Snake as they'd left Outer Heaven. Maybe he wouldn't try to kill him either?

Best not to rely on that. He had to get away from here! But how? Ocelot was yelling something at him again, but the words just seemed completely unintelligible to Otacon. Finally, he shook his head in disgust and pushed Otacon's hand against a black area of the wall that lit up at his touch. Pain shot through Otacon's wrist as Ocelot pushed a number of buttons on the panel, then pushed Otacon through a door that showed up while the compound's lights turned to a dim greenish light.

When the door closed behind them, leaving Otacon and Ocelot alone in a tiny room filled with computers and monitors, Otacon's ears started to clear. He couldn't hear the gun shots anymore, thanks to whatever soundproofed this room.

Ocelot was smiling, and it reminded Hal of the grin of a tiger had given a small rabbit on one of those nature shows Dave was always watching. He could hear again, if distantly, but Hal didn't need his hearing back to know what Ocelot was saying to him. "It looks like we're alone now."

The green lights had gone on when the place started to fill with some noxious odor. He had to get out of here... Unfortunately, there was no place on earth 20 floors underground that had a good emergency exit, least of all the Outer Heaven military base.

The mercenaries on both sides had looked a bit shocked and pulled on gas masks. Unfortunately, Snake didn't have one to use. Wherever he went seemed to be the middle of another armed conflict, and without air, he wasn't going to last in one of those...

Snake ran down the hall towards the elevator. If he could get on and stay still, he might make it to an upper level where there was a chance at fresh air. There were another 6 mercs...

He was running out of time. Snake ran out, guns blazing at the new arrivals. It confused the American-dressed mercs, who didn't fire at him until it was too late... Snake had maybe twenty second of air left. He wasn't going to make it.

[Hal, do you read me?] He waited. Nothing. He wasn't even going to get the chance to say goodbye. That's how the world was though. You never know the time and place...

He stumbled. The gas masks wouldn't help him now.

 _I'm sorry Hal,_ he thought as his hand hit the wall.


	15. Trinity

Hal back up against the wall of monitors while Ocelot turned things on. He tried the CODEC again, but it was still dead. Probably some proximity thing. He just had to keep himself focused. Ocelot would probably have him do something with the computers. Hal could see Ocelot banging away at the things. He was one of the old guard, not even as young as Snake, so there was no way that he'd be able to-

"Good. Level one security is no longer a problem. Now." He turned his head quickly to look at Hal. "Here's were we need the genetic factors."

Hal tried to back up farther, but there just wasn't any way to do it. "I bet you think your father designed these security protocols, don't you."

"Who else, Big Boss?" Hal asked, trying to sound brave. He had to stall. Snake would get to him as soon as he could. Hal just had to stall Ocelot until Snake was able to get here.

Ocelot smirked before giving his reply. "The brute couldn't have handled something complex like that. I always figured Arthur was giving the orders. After all, they had one little fight and suddenly Solid Snake takes the whole op down."

"Are you... are you saying my father kept the place up, or are telling me he took it down?"

"You really are in the dark about him, aren't you..." Ocelot snickered. "The Boss found out about him. Told him to get out of his sight. Arthur left the base, and only a few days later, the base went down. You can draw your own conclusions from that."

Snake drew in a deep breath as the gas suddenly cleared. _What the hell-?_ Whatever he'd touched had lit up like a molotov cocktail. There was a burst of static through the CODEC and suddenly the communications blackout was off.

[...draw your own conclusions from that.] Ocelot?

Great. [Otacon? Can you hear me? Tell me where you are.]

[Found out about him... what the hell is that supposed to mean?] asked Hal. _Damn it! One way communication..._ Snake shook his head and started running again. Time to put it in overdrive.

[About him and me.] That stopped Snake for about half a second.

[My father would never have... have been with... with scum like you!] Hal sounded unsure. Snake growled.

[Careful who you're calling scum. I might not need you alive, you know.]

Snake swore under his breath. Why did Hal always have to get himself into the middle of these things? He was put in a perfectly safe location, and still managed to get himself in trouble. He heard Hal whimper, and clenched his teeth. If Ocelot hurt Hal... well, someone was going to die a painful death, and it sure as hell wouldn't be Snake.

[Lucky you. The lock-out keys are tied to both genetic codes. Get up.]

Snake stopped in his tracks as he came up at a section of floor that had been blown out. He judged the distance, took a few steps back, and made a running jump.

[I said get up.] Hal yelped. [Did that hurt? Next time you do what you are told when you are told to do it.]

He'd almost missed the landing. Sloppy. Time for the elevator up to the floor he'd left Hal on. It shouldn't be more than a minute now, and then the only task left would be finding his waylayed partner. Snake got on and pushed the button, glad to be on his way.

Hal's hand was in a bit of pain. It wasn't too bad, certainly not broken, but doing what Ocelot told him to do might not end up being any better for his health. Snake would come before anything really bad happened. though. He always saved the day. Snake truly was a hero, whether he liked the word or not.

"Put your hand here," said Ocelot, indicating a panel.

Hal bit his lip and did as he was told. A screen lit up, a Snake lookalike staring out at him. Ocelot continued doing something beside him while Hal stared at the picture.

"Arthur," said the screen contritely. Hal glanced at Ocelot, still engrossed in the work he was doing. "We've been betrayed. By our biggest sponsor, no less. You did the traces, I hope. We need intel on the Monseigneur." The Monseigneur... Hal had seen that before. On the Chernobyl computer? Possibly...

"I've set things to delete everything on the system, hope I got it right." Things were always hard to delete completely... recovery could take a really long time though... And this was a military base. Surely even in the early 90s they knew enough about things to have fragmented everything and wiped it clean...

"Security should still be in place, so if anything happens, activate what you need. Don't trust a damned thing anyone tells you until you see me. Three days, you know the place." The tape had a date stamp. July 2, 1995. _That's... the day before dad died..._ "My soldier will be here in a few minutes. This base is useless now. I know how you feel about killing family, but if he doesn't join me, I don't have a choice. He wasn't supposed to get this far in the first place."

"And about last week... Look, I'm... I'm sorry. It's your family, I'm sure you know more than I do about them. Maybe the intel is wrong. But this isn't about jealousy, Arthur. Watch the woman. Your wife. There is something going on."

Something distracted him. "Three days, Arthur." The screen returned to darkness.

Hal looked away. His father had known about him and Julie because his lover had told him about it. And they'd fought over it. The shame of being so wrong must have killed him. Had they even had the chance to make up, to say they were sorry to each other in person? _I'd never argue with Snake before he went on a mission without apologizing first. If something happened... if he died thinking I was mad at him... I'd never forgive myself... If he died mad at me, I'd... I dunno what I'd do... I don't think I'd ever get over it..._

"It appears there's nothing here for me to go on," said Ocelot. "They must have buried it deeper..."

The door opened. "I'll take my tech back now," said Snake. Hal's eyes went to Snake, who's eyes were unwaveringly on Revolver Ocelot.

"Hmph." The voice changed suddenly. "They set us up, brother, all those years ago. Set you up to leave with him, set me up to die... I wonder how things would be different if I took him with me."

Snake said nothing and Hal looked around for a place that would be safe for him to hide in while the two... or was it three?... soldiers fought.

"I don't think I could stand him though, brother. He whines too much. He's too much of a coward. Or is that what you like about him? That you have someone to protect...?"

"Otacon, get behind me," ordered Snake, his eyes not moving off of Liquid Ocelot.

Hal nodded and moved to leave. "I think not," said Liquid, with a fluid motion that left a gun casually pointing at Hal. "Whoever has him is the one who wins, wouldn't you say, brother? If I can't find the person pulling the strings, I'll see if pulling at the puppet works."

"He isn't something to own, Liquid." Snake took a small step towards the other man.

"If it doesn't work, I'll get rid of the puppet," he said, his voice sounding more like Revolver Ocelot's. Snake's eyes narrowed and he took a step back. "Good. If you want your tech to live, you'll toss the gun."

In his mind, Snake was swearing in all 6 of the languages he knew. His eyes flickered for an instant, lighting on Hal before returning to Ocelot. "You'd just kill both of us," he said calmly.

There was a solution to this situation. There was a solution to every situation. What distinguished one man from another was _finding_ this solution, and of course, applying it afterwards.

Right now, Snake was looking at the computers screens perched precariously over Ocelot's head. If he could get Liquid ranting about one of his conspiracy theories, he might get the chance to push him into the things and get him to drop the gun.

"You know I'll kill one of you right now."

"Why kill him if he's the answer to your questions, Liquid? You must want to know who set all this up." The arm was taking control again, Snake could see it. Just one more push... "But we both know that no one did. I beat you, just like I did Big Boss. You're just too weak to take me on."

"Too weak, am I?" Liquid's attention snapped to Solid. "I found out that I really was the stronger of us. You were the weak one, given the defective genes. But you managed to defeat me. Defeat me? No, you were given help. The great Solid Snake, Legendary Hero of Shadow Moses... It makes me sick to know that we-"

An opening! Snake rushed forwards, the gun in Liquid's hand spinning towards Otacon. The computers fell forwards, narrowly missing Solid's shoulder and Liquid's head. The two Snakes grappled on the floor together, each one trying to stay on top and force the other into the live wires from the computers.

Liquid delivered a powerful punch to Solid's jaw, gaining the upper hand. It was short lived, as Solid's leg followed with a kick that separated the two enough for them both to rise.

Liquid gave a fierce battle cry, then launched himself at Solid. Solid ducked under the other man and pulled out a knife from his boot to strike out when Liquid used the back wall as an accelerator to strike back. Liquid had pulled out a gun, so Solid used his weapon to knock it away as it fired.

"Snake, we've gotta get out of here, now!"

"Not now, Otacon," said Snake. He couldn't afford to split his attention while fighting Liquid.

" _Right_ now! I've set up a self-destruct. This place is going to blow!"

Liquid looked at Otacon for a half second, then took a step backwards. "You two can stay here," he said with a laugh. He pressed something beside him and the door closed as Solid ran towards it.

Snake's hands ran around the door, but there were no obvious ways to open it. "Hope you've got a way out, Otacon."

Hal's hands were flying over a keyboard, feedback going to one of the three monitors that hadn't fallen. Fifteen seconds later, the door opened. "We don't have enough time," said Hal in a frightened voice.

"Start moving." Snake grabbed Hal's arm and started moving at the fastest pace he felt Hal could manage. "How much time do we have?"

Hal was already starting to pant. "About 8 minutes. We... we have to be around a mile away."

"We can do it. Just don't think." Around them, men were still fighting. Snake paid them no attention. They chose this course, they had to know what it meant, and while Snake could do a mile in a little under 4 minutes, he was going to be cutting it close with Hal beside him.

He picked a pace and set it for his partner. If Hal could keep up, they would be a mile away in 7 minutes. It was a big if.

They had just left the Outer Heaven base when Otacon began to tire. Snake didn't have many words of encouragement. "Press on, Otacon. You'll get a second wind in a few moments." Snake grabbed Hal's hand to make sure he didn't fall behind. They were going to get out of this thing together or not at all.

Snake was counting down the seconds in his head, dragging Otacon behind him, concentrating on all the important things. It wasn't that he didn't know what was ahead of them. It was simply that there really wasn't any way to turn if they wanted to make this 8 minute thing. There wasn't anywhere else to run if they didn't want to be blown into little pieces.

No way to go but into the loving arms of the enemy.


	16. Duality

The pair landed on the ground as the base exploded behind them. Snake heard the sound of guns being aimed.

"Don't move, either of you," was the command shouted into their ears. The next thing he knew, Snake felt his hands being bound roughly with rope.

He was hauled to his knees, and he looked over to see that the same had happened to Otacon, still wheezing beside him. Snake looked up to see exactly who the enemy was. What he saw... surprised him. And yet, it apparently wasn't the biggest surprise he was about to receive.

"Grandpa?" asked Hal, voice quivering.

"What do you mean, Grandpa? That's Roy Campbell." Snake hissed at Otacon.

"Now, Snake, can't I be both?"

Snake blinked. _Is it just me, or did that come from nowhere? Since when is Roy Hal's grandfather?_ "Why am I constantly being blindsided?"

"I never... never saw him before..." said Hal, faintly, apparently in explanation. "The colonel, I mean. He was always just a voice... on the other end of your CODEC conversations..."

[Hal, stay with me.] Hal didn't acknowledge him. The CODEC from Snake's side clearly wasn't working.

"You didn't think it was all random, did you? Why were you woken that fateful morning to go to Shadow Moses, and not any of the other highly qualified people we had? Do you mean to tell me that neither of you suspected it had anything to do with me?"

Snake's eyes narrowed in confusion. _That_ information was supposed to have somehow made them guess that Roy Campbell and Otacon's grandfather were the same person? Somehow, it was supposed to make them guess that it was all a part of the coverup?

"But... I thought you were dead..." said Hal, his voice sounding young and confused.

"It seems I've revealed myself too early in that case. Still, I wouldn't have wanted it publicized... so I suppose it's all right."

"Wait a second. How can you be Otacon's grandfather? Wouldn't that make you-"

"A very, very old man." He shook his head. "Surely you knew that we had agents in place to look after Big Boss...? And who better than his second-in-command, we thought. He figured me out though. Or perhaps it was my son who did... Doesn't matter. He was an abomination, just like his clone."

"Excuse me?" Snake stared at Roy, who was looking in disgust at Otacon.

"Little gay bastard."

"I... I'm not gay..."

"More sense than your father. And at least you've enough morality in you to know it's wrong and to deny it. But I have the proof." He pulled a tape out of his pocket. "That woman didn't correct you. Damned shame, too. Paid her enough that it should have been done."

"Okay. Let me get this straight. You paid that Julie woman to sexually abuse your grandson so that he wouldn't be gay?" Snake stared at Roy in disbelief. "Even my family isn't _that_ messed up." _I think,_ he added silently.

"No? Your father was the same. A gay man who wanted to raise his devil-spawned progeny. I thought you might have some hope, too. I set you up with Meryl, but even that wasn't enough for you. No, you have to have... _relations_... with my so-called grandson."

"What? We've never-" Hal looked up in confusion.

_"All right, what do you want?" asked Dave's disembodied voice.  
"You," responded Hal. "I love you."  
"I love you too. You don't know how long..."  
"Let's not wait."_

"That's not fair," said Snake quietly, mentally noting that he would have to check the rooms for bugs every night from now on.

"You edited that together. That never happened!" Hal said loudly, looking to Dave for confirmation. Snake said nothing.

"Why would I make my grandson look like a little _faggot?_ " Roy sneered.

"Then someone else did it. It _never happened._ " It wasn't Roy's words that hurt Snake. It was the total disbelief in Hal's voice. He didn't believe he could have said that he loved Dave. "Snake, back me up, will you?"

Snake frowned. If he lied, and Otacon ever found out, the engineer would never forgive him. He had to tell the truth. "You... you were drunk when you said that."

"What!?" Roy's words hadn't phased him. Nasty names were things that happened on the battlefield sometimes, even amongst professionals. "You took advantage of me!" It was the way Hal's accusation ripped through the air that put holes in his heart.

"I didn't take advantage of you, Otacon. You know me. I'd never do that."

"You... that night! You wouldn't let me leave the apartment! You had it planned all along!"

Snake grimaced. Didn't Hal know him better than that? Even when he was drunk, he'd never so much as looked at Hal askance. Never mind actually making a plan to try to get Hal into bed with him when he was sober. What kind of cold-blooded, immoral man did Hal think he was? "Look, _Hal,_ it wasn't _me_ pretending to be Arthur so I could get _you_ all worked up at three in the morning only to put on the brakes without any warning-"

"Oh my God, I woke up without anything on, you must have-"

 _Oh for-_ "I didn't do a _damned thing-_ "

_**BANG!** _

"I hate to interrupt," said Roy, reholstering his gun, "but I don't want to hear your gay lover's quarrel. The fact is, disgusting little sodomites or not, you are still our best agents out there. I don't want to see Canada or Mexico gaining superiority. None of us do. So I can't just kill you."

Snake looked around at the guns pointed at their heads. "Could have fooled me."

"You found out about this whole little plan of mine completely by accident. It really doesn't have anything to do with anything, except of course that you might end up exposing me if we continue on your little adventure. Tyler couldn't keep you in line, so it's time for me to take some direct action. I'm going to have to wipe your minds clean of everything from a month before Chernobyl. And then I'll have to make sure you remember something else. I think Tyler would believe you'd taken a trip to Alcupulco... to research some Metal Gear related thing that didn't work out."

"This doesn't make sense..." Otacon said, looking away from Snake. "I don't even understand what you were covering up."

"Hal..." Roy said in a kinder tone. "Grandson... I was covering up the biggest social engineering project I have ever tried my hand at. I was trying to change the destiny my son... your father... chose for you. And not only that, I knew I had failed. The rest of the Patriots would disown me for that. Failure is not taken well among such as us."

"So you were covering up... me?" Hal asked miserably. Roy stood and walked to the helicopter.

"Hal..." Snake said softly. The other man didn't so much as turn to acknowledge Dave's existence.

Roy pulled some unidentifiable _things_ out of the helicopter. "These will erase your memories. There might be some... side effects. We haven't used this particular model before, but all the others have worked, with moderate to severe side effects. They've only caused one death, and that was at the adoptation stage of the technology. Really, they're quite safe. You'll probably feel like you have a really bad hangover. Still, if either of you dies, I think we'll stage it as a lover's quarrel gone horribly wrong. Gay men are always killing each other. Too much testosterone."

"How can you talk like that about your own grandson?"

"My grandson?" Roy stopped and smirked at Snake. "He's a clone of his father. A _gay_ clone. Being gay isn't natural, and actually acting on it is a sin. And cloning is certainly not leaving anything for God to do. God would have cleansed his mother's womb of this _abomination_ , but Arthur took it into his mind to be his own kind of God. Just like your 'father' did. If the two of you weren't such good agents for us without knowing it, I'd have you both killed."

 _The hell with this._ The men here weren't going to kill them. They were probably even told not to shoot. Now that the two of them knew the whole damned story, it would be stupid to have to start all over again...

_I'd rather fight my way out of this than let someone take my memories away._

Snake pulled his arms over his head with a grunt of pain, kicked the gun away from the man beside Otacon, and flipped the man beside him to grab his weapon.

"What do you hope to prove, Snake?"

He fired on the men who still held their guns, shooting each in the hand to stop them from firing. "It's time for me to ask the questions," Snake growled, aiming at Roy.

"Even if you escape now, it won't help you, you know. We have people everywhere." There was a bead of sweat on Roy's forehead.

"I could just kill you."

"No!" Hal said, quickly waking from his self-imposed stupor. "He's my grandfather, Snake. He's... he's family..." Hal looked away again, the sad and hopeless expression returning to his face.

"Your grandson is worth a lot more than you," said Snake angrily. Roy didn't respond. "Fine then. So all of this was to keep anyone from knowing about your failure to control your family, is that it?" Roy said nothing. "Why was Ocelot involved in this?" Roy blinked. _Interesting... he didn't know, did he..._ "What did Liquid have to do with the whole thing?"

"I needed to see if it worked. Which one of you he'd choose. You were the more moral of the pair. I thought if he picked you, it meant he wasn't going down the same track as his pervert father."

"What happened to the nuclear materials from Chernobyl?"

"They used half of it in their little Metal Gear projects. The other half was sold to a dummy corporation of mine."

 _He's being talkative..._ "Who are the Patriots?"

Roy smiled. "I don't think I'll tell you."

Snake fired a shot. "I don't care if you're his grandfather. I've never had a problem with killing my own messed up family, so I'm not going to have any killing you."

"I know something you don't know, Snake."

Snake growled. "And what's that?"

"That was your last bullet."

Roy dove towards Snake as Snake tried pulling the trigger. The gun was knocked out of his hands as Roy tackled him. Hal was mumbling something, but Snake didn't have time to listen to it, focused as he was on avoiding Roy's punches and jabs.

Roy's hands were flying, but Snake knew how to use his whole body in his defense. With Snake's hands tied, the two of them were on an almost even playing field, with Roy having only a slight advantage over him.

Punches, kicks, jabs and head-butts, the soldiers used every trick they could think of against each other.

In the end, it wasn't Roy that got him down, it was Hal. Hal, with the bindings on his hands cut, not even putting up a token defense as one of the first two soldiers put a gun in his face. Hal, staring blankly at the gun, as though he didn't know the purpose of such a weapon. Hal, giving a start and then looking down the barrel with acceptance.

The sight shocked him into stillness, and Roy took the opportunity to hit the back of Snake's head.


	17. Unity

Otacon sat silently beside the small pallet, back leaning against the wall, studiously avoiding the examination of the other man sharing the single-occupancy prison cell. There wasn't much to look at other than the slumbering Snake, of course, but Otacon was trying to keep his mind busy in trying to come up with ways to escape the small room.

The room's walls were made of padding. Otacon had tried pulling the padding away, but there didn't seem to be any way to get under it. Every layer seemed to be covering another padded cover.

The floor was similarly too hard to break through with brute force. Even for the great Solid Snake, Otacon doubted it would be an easy task to break through solid concrete. From the sound of it, it had to be at least 3 inches deep.

There was one door in the room, locked from the outside, of course. From the inside, there were signs of neither keyhole nor, in fact, doorknob. A window in the door allowed some light into the room, but it was barred. He'd found out the hard way that the things were electrified.

Still, the situation wasn't hopeless. Otacon refused to believe that. Not while he and Snake were both still alive. He spared a glance at his cellmate.

Snake's chin was starting to show something like 2 day's worth of shadow. Otacon rubbed his own lightly stubbled face irritably. It wasn't as though they thought he'd go after them with a razor blade... Snake's hair was still matted at the back from the blood he'd shed. Truthfully, Otacon was starting to worry about how long it had been since the soldier had been awake.

The lights had been turned off and on a few times. Otacon was hungry and tired. He couldn't sleep in these conditions, and they hadn't brought any food around, though they had forced him to drink an obscene amount of water in the morning, or at least, what he thought must have been morning. They'd poured it down Snake's throat as well. Otacon thought they might wake him, or worse, choke his friend, but luckily, he hadn't drowned, only sputtered a bit.

Even if they escaped, Otacon wasn't quite sure where they'd go. But as long as they didn't get their memories erased, he supposed it didn't much matter...

Sanke groaned and looked around. His memory seemed to be intact. If he could remember there was a reason to need to remember something, his memory had to be reasonably intact. "Otacon?" Snake sat up and leaned against the wall.

"Snake! You're awake! It's been a while."

Snake tilted his head. "Where are we? And why aren't our memories erased?"

"Well, I'm not sure where we are. We were on the chopper for... a long time." Otacon shrugged. "As for our memories, well, he said there was something wrong with the mechanism. He looked upset about it."

Snake nodded. "Anything about this place?"

"I haven't found a way out, if that's what you mean." Snake nodded and began looking around. "You think... maybe we should talk? About... well... you know. Everything."

"More important to get out just now," said Snake absently.

Otacon took a breath. "Right." There was a long and rather uncomfortable pause. "Don't touch the bars."

Snake looked at them. He could just see the wires. With a little luck, he should be able to... "Anything they didn't take off you? A pencil, a screwdriver...?"

"No. They thought you might make a weapon out of it..."

Snake nodded. "What are your glasses made of?"

"Uh... titanium and plastic. Why?"

"Give them to me." He grabbed the glasses from Otacon's head, then, holding them carefully by the lenses, used the frames to gently pull at the wires connected to the bars.

Otacon stood and walked to him. "Snake!"

"You want to get out of here or not?"

"Still. Give a guy a bit more warning."

Snake gave a non-committal grunt and continued prying the wires with Otacon's glasses. The wires shifted back and forth as he moved the glasses, carefully positioning the arms under the connections. "Snake, I think someone's coming."

"Just a few more seconds," Snake hissed. He could hear them outside now, fumbling for keys, still walking towards the door. He redoubled his effort, smiling slightly as the arm went under, then pulling up sharply. He handed the glasses to Otacon before half collapsing against the wall as sound of the unlocking door penetrated the room.

"Still asleep?" Roy Campbell again. A few steps, then a kick, hard, into his side. Snake let himself fall farther to the side with the kick. "Sit down, boy."

"I'll stand, if it's all the same." _Hal, don't play that game..._

There was a dull thump, and a held-back grunt of pain. "It's not."

There was a brief pause. "So what do you want?" Snake dared cracking one eye open. "Here to gloat about how everything turned out like you wanted?"

He'd fallen into a position where he could survey the entire room. Fortunate... Snake was not one to ignore luck.

"You're wrong about that, boy." A nameless soldier brought him a chair at an unspoken command. Roy sat. "It wasn't supposed to be like this, you know that, boy?"

"How _was_ it supposed to be?" Otacon was sitting on the floor, arms clutched around his midsection.

"You weren't supposed to know about this. Do you know how much effort we have to put into a story now, just to make sure the two of you don't come looking again?"

"Do you expect me to feel sympathetic?"

"Do you want to know all of this about your past, Hal? Wouldn't you like the slate wiped clean?"

"No!"

"His betrayal of everything you are... wouldn't you like to just forget it?" Roy's face looked almost... compassionate. "That your father worked with Big Boss, _his_ progenitor? You and he could be a team again, just like always. No niggling questions about what someone else was planning, just the two of you, working to keep America strong. Or the rest of the world weak, if you'd rather see it like that."

Otacon's eyes darted towards Snake. "I don't want that. Not a chance. Grandpa, I..."

"Want to live your own life, I expect?" He waved a hand and the soldiers backed out of the room. Leaving the door open. "I'm sure you see why I can't let you do that." Otacon was slowly backing away from Roy, who had stood and was slowly advancing. "I'd have liked your cooperation. Makes the process easier. But don't worry, boy. This won't hurt much, and all those complicated questions and issues won't matter to you anymore." Otacon's back was to the wall and Roy had a hand on Otacon's shoulder.

 _Now!_ thought Snake, pushing himself off the wall, shouldering Roy away from Otacon. The colonel's arms went up automatically to grab the back of Snake's collar as he maneuvered himself to Roy's back. His hand quickly found the gun at the colonel's waist and Roy stood stiffly still as the pistol was placed at his head. "This time, I know how many bullets there are, Roy."

"Do you." The words came out as a statement.

"Otacon, stay behind me."

"Right," whispered Otacon.

"And now, we're going to leave," Snake announced. There were no sounds to indicate that anyone had heard him, but he cautiously walked out the door, Otacon trailing behind him, Roy as a shield in front of him. "Where did everyone go," demanded Snake.

"I _thought_ you were unconscious. My mistake. I didn't need them to guard one little computer soldier. I had them leave."

"What all of them?"

"Snake..."

"What?"

"Remember when I went on that little mission?" Snake nodded. "This is that place."

"That's right, gentlemen. This is probably the most heavily guarded building in America. It has to be, with the quantity of weapons grade uranium we have here."

Snake tightened his grip. "Shut up. Okay, Otacon, you know the layout of this floor?"

Otacon shook his head slowly. "The layouts weren't really the same as what was on the building plan."

"Then how do you know this is the same place?"

"The layout is what it should have been... Look, this place is based on keycards. Gr- The colonel has to have one."

"Right. Otacon, search him for the card. Colonel, hands out to the side, slowly."

Snake kept the Colonel from moving while Otacon searched the man, looking uncomfortable. Still, better him being uncomfortable searching his grandfather than unable to shoot when necessary.

"Got it," said Otacon after nearly thirty seconds.

"And how do you expect to get out? Do you know where the stairs are, boys?" Otacon was looking worried.

"I told you to shut up, Roy. Otacon, get behind me." He glanced around. They were in a long hallway, doorways at intervals along the corridor. "There's only two directions. We'll go-"

"Gentlemen, if you continue with this, my men will shoot you both without hesitation. Snake, you're a right mess, no one who sees you will imagine you've not escaped from something. And Hal can't do espionage without one of those sneaking suits. I don't want either of you dead, but-" Snake pulled the gun away from Roy's face, spun it in his hand, then brought the butt down on the back of his head. Roy collapsed on himself.

"Snake, he's an old man!"

Not that old, thought Snake in annoyance. "Come on, Otacon." He took his friend's hand and pulled. "I'm sure we'll be detected soon, if we haven't already been."

Snake chose a direction at random, and the pair followed the hallway to the end without incident. They used the Colonel's card and gained access to the stairs without anyone noticing them.

Then was the climb up the stairs. Snake knocked three men out in the four story climb. They hadn't been trained to work together, it appeared. None of them were keeping tabs on any of the others. _Private security forces just aren't what they should be anymore._ Snake smirked. _Of course, if I weren't good, and he hadn't sent his honor guard away, this might have been difficult..._

On the second basement floor, the two of them had to cut through cubicles to get to the stairs to the ground floor. Luckily, it was late enough that only one man was working in them. Snake didn't even bother to knock him out, since he was listening to music. The only difficult part was in the lobby. Snake knocked on a wall and dragged Otacon out.

They walked away from the building quickly, sticking to the shadows. "We're safe now, right, Snake?"

"Yeah. Yeah, pretty much."

"Then I think it's time for that chat."

Security started boiling out of the building behind them. Dave wasn't very interested. "Right. Let's go somewhere and talk."


	18. Uranium Mirror

They didn't talk immediately, of course. If you didn't want to have to scan for enemies while you were talking, you needed a place. If you wanted a place, you had to have money. Snake retrieved money and all the portable equipment from their apartment.

They needed somewhere quiet, but not too quiet. Neither of them wanted eavesdroppers. Dave insisted on a place where he could smoke, and Hal had already decided that he wanted a coffee of some sort. Something deluxe, with as much caffeine as possible. Hal took care of finding a coffee shop that fit the criteria.

The place was small, little more than a hole in the wall with an upstairs area that allowed smoking. It featured seats that clung to the walls and tables that crawled along them. The floors probably hadn't been swept for a week. It would probably be shut down as a health hazard any day, but it suited the purpose admirably.

The sat down beside each other, facing the stairs. Dave pulled a package from his duffel bag and lit a cigarette while Hal took a sip from his espresso. The silence lengthened uncomfortably between them.

Dave finished his cigarette and pulled out another one.

"Seems like we don't have much to say," he said quietly.

"There's a lot to say." Hal took another sip. "But I don't know how to say it."

Dave nodded. He reached over and tapped the ashtray with a finger. Hal watched the ashes rise and fall in little explosions of dust.

"You and me, together like that... It's a dumb idea, huh?"

Snake shrugged. "It shouldn't make a difference," he said, a trifle coldly. Hal's eyes searched Dave's face. "We work well together," he relented.

"It's just... I don't want to be them. I don't want to... to fight for justice and peace just to find out it's all about power and revenge and someone else guiding the outcome of every mission..." Hal leaned his head back.

"We aren't them, Hal. We're different."

"Are we?" Hal leaned forwards and tapped the ashtray. "They made us from the bottom up. To be like them. Then gran- the colonel- tried to remake us... What does that make us? _Who_ does that make us, Dave?"

Dave sighed. "It isn't about... being someone or not being someone. You have to be yourself, whoever that is. You can't live if you're trying not to be someone any more than if you're trying to live up to someone else's example."

Hal's head fell back against the wall again. "Did I really say I loved you?"

"Yeah." Dave blew out smoke. "We didn't sleep together though. And I _didn't_ try to take advantage of you."

"I know," said Hal softly. "I had some time to think about it." Hal laughed quietly. "You've never really lied to me about something like that. I don't think you would."

"I wouldn't."

"I know." Hal shrugged. "It was just shocking to hear it."

"Hm." Dave frowned. "I didn't like hearing you deny it," he said, in a voice that might have been too quiet to hear if they hadn't been in this place, so close together.

Hal shifted uncomfortably. "I guess that's that then. We've found out the whole thing. Time to get back to normal, fight some more bipedal death machines...?"

Snake nodded. "We'll need to find another base of ops, set up. Then, back to work."

Otacon smiled. "Right." He drank the rest of his coffee. "Got a city you like?"

"I was thinking maybe-"

"Excuse me," said a voice from the stairs. "Is there a Mr. Hal Emmerich up here?"

A courier came into view. Hal glanced at Dave. "That's me," said Snake, standing.

"Right." He pulled an envelope out of his bag and handed it to Dave. Snake looked at the man, up and down several times, before taking the envelope. "Okay," said the courier, sounding incredulous. He pulled out an electronic clipboard. "I really thought someone was pulling my leg with this one. I'd think a P.O. box would be more useful. Well, no signature required... Thank you, sir, and I hope you remember to use IntEx for all your deliveries."

The courier went down the stairs.

Snake turned the envelope over a few times. "I don't see anything."

"Fingerprinting this would be out by now," said Otacon. "It doesn't look heavy enough for a bomb."

"There are lots of things just as deadly."

Otacon looked at it. "It could be a tip of some kind."

Snake frowned and turned it over again. "My gloves are in my bag." Otacon nodded and took the envelope while Snake got his gloves and put them on. He shook it about, trying to hear if there was anything inside.

Snake took it back and opened it carefully. He reached in gingerly and pulled out a photograph. "The colonel? Why would someone send us a picture of him?"

Hal looked over. "That's- Snake..." Hal's voice dropped to a whisper. "Is that who you saw?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"That man looks nothing like my grandfather."

* * *

The two of them were in a new used van a few hours later, driving towards Windsor. Close to Detroit yet still a major city, Otacon felt it would be a good location to hide in. A quick trip across the border would get them onto American soil, but no one would really expect to find them in Canada.

Border crossings from Canada to the United States had become more difficult since 2005, but it was the work of minutes to have false Canadian birth certificates printed for them both. Otacon had set himself up in the back, hooking his computers to the cigarette lighter for power and using a satellite phone to gain access to the net.

They each had a job to do, and they were both good at getting the job done.

* * *

"We have to make a decision on this Snake. This is probably going to be the only place we aren't bugged. As long as we're driving, anyways."

"I hear you." Snake's eyes didn't waver from the unending line of highway that stretched out in front of them. "But you know we're running blind right now."

"We can't expect the answers to just come to us. We have to find them ourselves. Who sent us the picture? How did they know where we were? How did Mr. Colonel know where we would be? I'll bet he fooled us with some technology. Don't know what it was, but we'll have to check notes from now on. Or carry cameras to give us an objective look." Otacon smirked.

"You want to make me use yet another tech tool?" Snake said with a raised eyebrow. "At any rate, we know there's a spy inside of Philanthropy. We as good as told Tyler we'd be going to Outer Heaven. So it's got to be someone there."

Otacon sighed. "Okay. The only way to find that out is going to mean we report back to Philanthropy. What if we have Tyler keep it under wraps?"

"Not good enough. Let's leave it alone. Going AWOL will show us who starts looking."

"If they're smart, they won't be looking themselves. Besides, don't you think Tyler himself will be looking?"

Snake pursed his lips and nodded sharply. "You're right. But it's got to be a different faction that sent the picture. There's at least two sides to this." Snake frowned. "I don't like how we got the picture. Someone knew exactly where we were."

"I know." Hal leaned his head back against the headrest. "But neither of us found anything on the gear. Hi-tech or low-tech."

"Funny, that. And neither of us called anyone," Snake said blandly. "But there they were."

Otacon was quiet for a moment. "I've heard they can track people by cash. Dollars have sensors in them, supposedly for forgery protection. It's only the fringe that's saying it, of course, but then, we're on the fringe."

"Hm. So you think we should throw our money out the window?"

"Well, maybe that's a little too paranoid. Besides, we need it."

"We need American currency in Canada? Let's exchange it a few times on the way to the border."

Otacon sighed. "Well, if you say so."

"We still need to figure out how to play these two off each other," said Snake, his eyes continuing to scan the road.

"If it's just two," said Otacon, pointedly.

Snake nodded. "One of them wants us to know something the other one is hiding. Somehow, it connects to Galzburg and Outer Heaven."

"But we _went_ there. There wasn't anything to see. Just an abandoned military institution."

"And Ocelot. And this 'Colonel' who wasn't who he said he was."

Otacon nodded slowly. "And a title. Monseigneur. At Outer Heaven... He said something about Monseigneur and background checks..."

"Code names," said Snake shortly. "If we had some way to cross reference that, maybe we could do something."

"The Chernobyl computer." Otacon reached back and pulled his laptop out, then started typing. "I'm sure I saw it there... I'll just set up a search on this... it shouldn't take more than a few minutes for it to run."

"Right. Look, Otacon, this is what we do. We get back to Philanthropy, no matter what it says. We need to find the spy. We need to know who is running the other side. We need to play these people off each other. And we need to find out what the hell is going on."

"But Snake-"

"Better the spy we know, Otacon."

"... I suppose." The computer beeped. "Okay, so what do we have?" said Otacon, mostly to himself. "Monseigneur, alias Ririte, H., alias... That's the name from Deeler Tech... um, alias Dardin, D."

"As in, Taylor Durdan?"

Otacon tilted his head. "No, but it sounds similar... want me to run a background check on Taylor?"

"Right. But if he was involved in it from then, he can't be the spy we're looking for. Better run a check on everyone we know about. Everyone. Freelancers included."

"What, you want me to check Jack and Rose too? Snake, that's going to take months."

"Rose has been a spy before. And we have time. No one's acted on anything for years."

"Okay. Who do you want to do first? After Tyler, I mean." Otacon shook his head.

"Get the freelancers done first. There are fewer of them."

"What do you want me to look for?"

"Anything out of place. Connections to anyone on those files. Cross reference. You know what we need," said Snake.

"And what are you going to do?"

"I want them thinking we bought it," he said. "Once we're officially around again," his eyes narrowed and he gave Hal a sideways smile. "I'll be on a mission."

* * *

REPORT: MISSION CODE XC1192  
AGENT IN CHARGE: XXXXXXXX XXXXXXXX (SECURITY LEVEL 8 REQ)  
AUTHORIZATION: XXXXXXXX XXXXXXXX (SECURITY LEVEL 9 REQ)

Wiretap Transcript: Record P3902-XC1192-3A : SEPTEMBER 31 2010 : 23:26  
CODE NAME: OTACON (identified as XXXXXXXX, H. [SEC4 REQ]) referred to as OC  
CODE NAME: SNAKE (identified as XXXXXXXX, D. [SEC6 REQ]) referred to as SS  
OC: SNAKE, COME IN.  
SS: I'M HERE. IS EVERYTHING SET UP?  
OC: TIMING IS IMPORTANT, SNAKE. WE'VE GOT 4 MINUTES. BETTER MAKE  
IT 5, JUST TO BE ON THE SAFE SIDE.  
SS: BETTER SAFE THAN SORRY?  
OC: WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO TRY TO QUOTE MEI LING'S SAYINGS TO YOU?  
I'M SURE I'VE GOT ONE IN HERE...  
SS: UH, THANKS, OTACON. I'M FINE.  
OC: WELL, IF YOU SAY SO. OKAY, THE REACTOR WE'RE GETTING  
INFORMATION ON IS NUMBER 7. WE'VE GOT REPORTS OF DEUTERIUM  
URANIUM BEING SYPHONED OFF OF ALL THE REACTORS, BUT WE HAVE  
TO FOCUS ON ONE.  
SS: I READ THE REPORTS, AND I HELPED DESIGN THE MISSION. OTACON,  
NO MATTER WHAT YOU MIGHT THINK, I DON'T FORGET THE PURPOSE  
OF ANY MISSION.  
OC: I KNOW.  
OC: THEY'RE GOING TO BE DECOMMISSIONING THESE THINGS SOON.  
SS: ONE OF THE OLDEST POWER PLANTS STILL RUNNING IN THE WORLD.  
OC: LARGEST NUMBER IN ONE AREA TOO. IT'S AMAZING THAT THEY'RE  
SO... CARELESS. WITH ALL THE PROBLEMS BEING ASSOCIATED WITH  
NUCLEAR POWER...  
SS: WELL, YOU CAN'T ARGUE WITH HOT SUMMERS AND THE NEED FOR AIR  
CONDITIONING.  
OC: WE GOT ALONG FINE WITHOUT ELECTRICITY FOR THOUSANDS OF  
YEARS. NOWADAYS, A POWER OUTAGE IS LIKELY TO DAMPEN THE  
WORLD ECONOMY.  
OC: PROGRESS, HUH?  
SS: YEAH, WELL, WE JUST HAVE TO FIND OUT WHO'S TAKING THE  
NUCLEAR MATERIAL. THEN WE CAN GET OUT OF HERE.  
OC: I SUPPOSE. STILL, I DON'T LIKE BEING SO CLOSE TO IT.  
OC: I THINK I SHOULD HAVE BEEN IN THE NEXT CITY OVER.  
SS: NOTHING'S GOING TO GO WRONG, OTACON. WE'RE TALKING ABOUT  
BUREAUCRATS WITH A SIDE DEAL.  
OC: I'VE JUST GOT A BAD FEELING ABOUT THIS MISSION.  
OC: LIKE WE MISSED SOMETHING IMPORTANT.  
SS: DON'T BE PARANOID. IF THERE WAS A HINT OF SOMETHING ABOUT TO  
GO WRONG, PHILANTHROPY WOULD HAVE CALLED THE GOVERNMENT  
ABOUT IT.  
SS: WE'D BE EVACUATING PLACES, NOT SPYING ON THEM.  
SS: ENOUGH TALK. IT'S TIME.

Wiretap Transcript: Record P3902-XC1192-3B : SEPTEMBER 31 2010 : 23:47  
OC: I'M READING AN INCREASE IN RADIATION LEVELS AROUND YOU.  
WHERE ARE YOU?  
SS: JUST ENTERING THE REACTOR. DANGEROUS?  
OC: ...NOT YET. BUT IT MIGHT BE A GOOD IDEA TO GET A RADIATION  
SUIT ON.  
SS: I DON'T THINK THEY JUST LEAVE THOSE LYING AROUND.  
SS: BUT I'LL SEE WHAT I CAN SCROUNGE UP.

Wiretap Transcript: Record P3902-XC1192-3C : OCTOBER 1 2010 : 00:01  
OC: THERE'S A LOT OF INERENCE HAPPE ON MY EN.  
SS: YOU OKAY?  
OC: I THINK SOME USING JAMMING DECE. I'M  
GOING TO OVE CLOS.  
SS: NEGATIVE. OTACON, STAY WHERE YOU ARE. SECURITY'S HIGHER THAN  
WE THOUGHT.  
SS: OTACON?  
SS: DAMN.

Wiretap Transcript: Record P3902-XC1192-3D : OCTOBER 1 2010 : 00:12  
OC: THE JAMMING'S CLEARED UP. STRANGE. I'M INSIDE THE REACTOR  
NOW, SNAKE.  
SS: HOW DID YOU GET IN UNDETECTED?  
OC: STEALTH SUIT, OF COURSE. YOU KNOW ME, SNAKE. I'M NOT ONE TO  
RELY ON MY OWN STEALTH SKILLS.  
OC: BESIDES, I HAVE EQUIPMENT TO BRING WITH ME.  
SS: NO ONE DETECTED YOU?  
OC: NO ONE'S HERE, SNAKE.  
SS: NO ONE? THAT'S STRANGE...  
OC: YOU THINK THERE'S SOMETHING WRONG?  
SS: ...  
SS: I'M ALMOST AT THE OBJECTIVE. JUST DON'T COME IN ANY FARTHER.

Wiretap Transcript: Record P3902-XC1192-3E : OCTOBER 1 2010 : 00:15  
OC: SNAKE, YOUR READINGS ARE SHOWING PLUTONIUM.  
SS: PLUTONIUM? I THOUGHT THESE REACTORS WERE DESIGNED TO RUN ON  
NON-WEAPONS GRADE MATERIAL.  
OC: WELL, YES. BUT CANDU REACTORS CAN PRODUCE PLUTONIUM IN  
PRINCIPLE. WHEN DESIGNS FOR CANDU REACTORS ARE SOLD, NATIONS  
HAVE TO AGREE TO PRETTY STRINGENT RULES ABOUT NUCLEAR  
WEAPONS PROGRAMS.  
OC: BUT THOSE DESIGNS ARE-  
SS: ALL MADE IN CANADA?  
OC: CANADA SHOULDN'T BE A THREAT... BUT THE REACTORS HAVE BEEN  
RUN PRIVATELY IN ONTARIO FOR YEARS.  
SS: OKAY. WHAT DO I NEED FOR PROOF HERE?  
OC: I DON'T THINK YOU CAN GET IT RIGHT NOW. WE'LL HAVE TO ABORT  
THE MISSION AND COME BACK LATER WITH THE RIGHT EQUIPMENT.  
SS: ABORT? OTACON...  
OC: SNAKE, I'VE REALLY GOT A BAD FEELING ABOUT THIS.  
SS: ...  
SS: IT'LL TAKE ME A LITTLE WHILE.

Wiretap Transcript: Record P3902-XC1192-3F : OCTOBER 1 2010 : 00:21  
SS: THERE'S NO ONE IN THE BUILDING.  
OC: THAT CAN'T BE RIGHT...  
SS: OTACON, I WANT YOU OUT. NOW. I'LL BE JOINING YOU SOON.  
OC: ... RIGHT.

Wiretap Transcript: Record P3902-XC1192-3G : OCTOBER 1 2010 : 00:22  
OC: THE DOORS HAVE BEEN SEALED. SNAKE? THE DOORS...  
SS: CALM DOWN. WHERE EXACTLY ARE YOU?  
OC: I'M AT YOUR INFILTRATION POINT...  
SS: I'LL BE THERE IN-  
SS: DAMN.  
OC: WHAT?  
SS: THERE'S A BOMB HERE.  
OC: A... A BOMB?  
SS: ... I'M GOING TO TRY SOMETHING.

Followup: Record P3902-XC1192-3H  
OCTOBER 1 2010 : 12:22:48 Communications ceased.  
OCTOBER 1 2010 : 12:23:06 Explosions noted in Pickering A, reactor 7.  
OCTOBER 1 2010 : 12:23:23 Implosion of reactor 7.  
Damages estimated to be in the billions of dollars. No loss of life in surrounding  
area, toxins believed to be contained.  
OCTOBER 1 2010 : 01:06 First response aid offers from USA extended and accepted.

Followup: Record P3902-XC1192-3I  
OCTOBER 10 2010  
Canada presented with above evidence. Denies any knowledge of plutonium in CANDU  
reactors. Reports RCMP, CSIS Investigations ongoing.

Recommendations  
Canada on high alert for terrorism, terrorism threats. Increase border patrols. CIA  
to determine level of governmental/corporate involvement. CIA to run concurrent  
investigations into Pickering operations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, the CANDU reactors! The oldest ones are, of course, in Canada (they are the CANada Deuterium Uranium, after all). CSIS is like the Canadian CIA. Everyone kind of implies they aren't as good as MI-6 or the CIA. I haven't a clue. RCMP is our Royal Canadian Mounted Police, but everyone should know that from Dudley Do-Right! The Pickering Plant (built in 1971) is closed, though it is the biggest CANDU reactor, and Canada does indeed require countries to agree not to produce nuclear weapons in order to build them. Plutonium for weapons in India and North Korea is said to have been produced in reactors like the CANDU. See Wikipedia for more information.


	19. Jumbo

"In the aftermath of the Pickering Plant disaster, intelligence agencies around the world began deadly games of move and countermove. A chess board in a thousand dimensions, and no one was controlling it. It was so sudden and complete that not even the Patriots had a chance.

"That's how they're going to write the history books."

"Don't write us up as the remains of history just yet, Otacon." Snake smiled and leaned in over his technician's computer equipment. "We've still got a little life left in us."

Otacon smirked. "Everyone wants to know what happened to us. And to the power plant. So everyone's gotten incautious."

"They shouldn't have. MI6, the CIA, CSIS... everyone is looking carefully at everyone else."

"But they think we're dead." Hal smiled. "When I plan fake deaths-"

"You go overboard."

"Well, maybe. But it worked! Anyways, they're all looking at Greenpeace."

"It's hard to believe the intelligence community can be stupid enough to think Greenpeace would take any risks with a nuclear plant."

Otacon shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, well, I'm sure they'd be even more surprised that _we_ did. With our histories." Snake patted him on the shoulder. "Well, the carelessness has worked to our advantage. Do you remember who knew, Snake? That we were going to Outer Heaven?"

"Tyler and Mei Ling were directly involved in planning. Whoever else they told."

"Right. Now, of course I can't trace anything that happened back then. It was too late even before we headed to Canada. Things were getting erased on an hourly basis. But now..."

Snake waited, but Otacon had started typing again. "What have you found?"

Otacon shook his head and pulled his fingers from the keyboard. "I was able to put a tracking program on IPs from both of them. It's indirect, virtually untraceable. There's a lot of email and phone correspondence to search through, but... right here." Otacon pointed at the screen. "These two email addresses are the same."

"They don't look the same. And what's all that garbage _before_ them?"

"They're both obfuscated. The first one uses hex addressing, the second uses a combination of decimal and..." Otacon laughed sheepishly. "Um, they're just written differently. The stuff before them and after them is evidence of all the relaying and redirects. The headers have all been messed up. If I didn't know the origin of these, it would be tough to get the original IPs. The important thing is that they're to the same address."

"Okay." Snake shook his head, not worried about understanding the specifics. "What do they say? And who are they to?"

"Oh... well... I'm not really sure." Otacon shrugged. "I mean, they're encrypted. 128 bit!" Snake looked at him skeptically. "Well, it just proves they have something to hide!" he said triumphantly.

Snake scratched his head. "Otacon, how am I supposed to use that info?"

"Bluff? Look, if I do anything more invasive to figure out what they're doing, you'll lose the element of surprise."

"It would be a lot easier to _bluff_ someone on the other side."

"Well..." Hal shifted and looked away. "I could follow them to where they're being picked up. There's no guarantee it isn't a hotmail account picked up at a library though..."

"Find the other side, Otacon. This is useless."

"Okay, okay, don't get excited. I'll track it." Otacon started typing.

Snake tapped his foot. "How long is this going to take?"

"I've got a location. As for who it is... I can't even guess."

Snake nodded. "All right, enough stalling then. Let's start this bluff. Where are we headed?"

"Resolving..."

"Where are we going, Otacon?"

Otacon turned around and met Snake's eyes. "Here." Behind him, he heard it. A revolver. The world narrowed.

"Traitor," he whispered. Hal blinked, but held his eyes steadily on Snake's.

"You really are just like the old man. More than either of _them_ were." The voice cooled the air. "And _you're_ just like _him_ , too. Always _did_ want his answers, Emmerich. Of course, I'd say that's what got them killed."

"Tyler was a patriot. I know that. And someone else was a spy, but for a different patriot. I know that. What I don't understand is you. The Confederate."

"Me? I'm the same as always," said Ocelot. "I don't work for anyone but myself."

"You work with all of them to get your own agenda."

"That's right." Hal's eyes were still fixed on Snake's. He could hear the sly smile in Ocelot's words. "And you wanted to give me _your_ proposal?"

"I need to know what you want first."

Ocelot laughed. "Did I tell you we were going to exchange information?"

Hal turned around and stared at his computer. "There's enough SEMTEX here to kill even Solid Snake," he said quietly. "I want to know your agenda."

Ocelot paused. "I think you're bluffing." The smile had disappeared.

Otacon nodded and turned back. His eyes looked hard as any mercenary's for a moment.

"Then perhaps you'd rather have _my_ threats."

"Durdan?"

"These two have been putting their lives on the line for peace. Our goals, Ocelot. Yet you've had a spy in my organization for years, haven't you? Who's the spy?"

Snake's eyes narrowed again. He looked at Otacon's eyes, which were even now darting back and forth, watching the confrontation behind him. He shook his head when he noticed Snake looking at him.

"Peace? Next we'll be talking about Mother Russia. These two don't need to hear internal discussions."

"They're our agents. Perhaps it's time they learned not to shoot at people they are working for. If you are still with us."

They said nothing. Otacon caught Snake's eye and nodded slightly. Snake did nothing. Hal pulled back almost imperceptibly. The moment passed.

"His signal to Snake was ignored. Emmerich has destroyed your perfect partnership. It's late in the day to start giving them answers now," said Ocelot, his voice like steel.

"Mine? They are agents of all of us. We will find them new partners."

"No. Put them back in their own business. They were created for war."

"They were created for _peace_."

"They were _co-opted by_ peace."

It was quiet behind Snake again.

"Twelve patriots. Two here. Where are the others? Why didn't you bring all of them, Ocelot? Or you, Tyler?" asked Otacon quietly. There was no answer. "That's the heart of this whole thing, isn't it," he said to himself.

Snake nodded. "A power struggle in the ranks of the Patriots themselves." Snake focused on the sounds of breathing in the room. One in front. Three in behind. Three?

The smirk was back in Ocelot's voice. "Like I said before: same as the old man."

Snake threw himself to the floor. The shot rang above him as he twisted around, legs aiming for Ocelot's knees. Ocelot's second shot went astray as well, helped out of balance by Snake's movement, finding its way to graze Otacon's shoulder. Snake used his momentum to swing himself up.

Tyler stepped back, neatly avoiding the third shot as Ocelot rolled into a shooter's position. "I didn't spend all this effort just to have it wasted by you." Tyler's hand came up with a gun.

Ocelot's gun was faster. "You should know not to go up against me with a gun!" The bullet ripped through Tyler's hand.

Snake had no weapon. There was only one choice. Get rid of Ocelot's advantage. Snake rushed at Ocelot. The fifth bullet raced towards him. Snake raised his arm and let it hit him, lodging itself in his arm instead of Otacon's head.

The pair hit the ground with a thump. Snake pushed past the pain in his arm and concentrated instead on pounding Ocelot's head into the floor. He could hear a struggle besides his own, but had no energy to deal with it. Hal would have to do it on his own.

He set the thing up, after all. Ocelot was reaching for his gun again, and Snake moved his uninjured arm around, grabbing his wrist and _twisting_.

 _Gunshots_. He turned his head. Hal was ducking behind his chair. Ocelot grabbed his attention back with his uninjured hand, a punch to the bullet wound he'd given Snake earlier.

"Watch out!" shouted Hal.

Snake had no time to react as Tyler crashed into the fight. Ocelot used the distraction to reach for his revolver. _One shot left,_ thought Snake grimly. He and Ocelot struggled with the gun, each trying to get the requisite strength to turn the other's aim away.

Ocelot fired.

* * *

There was no reason to hide. Not anymore. "Snake?"

"I'm sorry, Hal, but it's for the best." Hal's heart sank.

"I thought in the end, you'd support us, Mei Ling."

"The Patriots are a plague on humanity. They've been using the two of you to create peace here, and war throughout the rest of the world. He would have changed that."

"How would he have done _that_?" asked Hal skeptically.

"By taking over."

"So you sold us to Ocelot?"

She shook her head. "No!" She began again, more gently. "No, I didn't sell you to anyone. I was hoping you'd be able to make a deal with him. He was your chance to be who you were born to be."

"I was happy being who I was."

Mei Ling frowned. "Anne Sexton said, 'It doesn't matter who my father was; it matters who I remember him to be.' But she was wrong! It matters what your past was, because it's a part of what your future will be.

"I want it to stop, Hal. All these wars are killing us. We need _one_ government that looks after the interests of _everyone_. You were supposed to be the person who led the world. You and one of Big Boss' clones. But you can't do it. They changed you. _Ocelot_ can do it." She looked back. "Could have done it.

"You ruined it." Her eyes dulled.

"Ruined it? Snake's _dead_! Tyler's _dead_!"

"And who brought Ocelot and Durden together?" she demanded.

"I thought Ocelot was setting us up. I wanted to know what was going on. _You could have just told me!_ " He shook his head. "I thought we were friends, Mei Ling." He looked down.

"Hal, you spend all your time with Snake. He's your friend. I'm just someone you know from work."

"And now Snake is..." Hal sat down heavily. "You know, it doesn't matter why we were here, Mei Ling. You had no right to manipulate us."

"Neither did Durden."

"I guess that means I should be used to disappointment?"

Neither of them said anything for an uncomfortable moment.

"I'm going to go," said Mei Ling softly. "I wish things hadn't turned out like this."

Hal closed his eyes and listened to the footsteps. He took a deep breath.

His head snapped up as the hand fell on his shoulder. "So that's how it ends," said Dave quietly. "Spies and traitors. And us."

Hal relaxed, then tensed again. "Us. It always comes down to us." He shook his head. "I'm... glad you're okay. I thought you were dead."

"Yeah. Ocelot and Durden are. You okay?"

"Sure." Hal smirked. "We... okay?"

Dave grunted and gave a nod. He smiled the smile that only Hal ever got the chance to see.

"We're weapons then. For war or for peace, but controlled by someone else no matter what."

"'We make war that we might live in peace.' Aristotle." Hal tilted his head and looked at Dave. "We want peace, and we can make it happen, Hal. Our way. With our rules."

Hal shook his head. "A weapon doesn't bring peace. All it can do is make war go on forever."

Snake shrugged. "It's all in your perspective. Nuclear weapons weren't made to continue war. They were used twice, then kept as threats. They're so powerful that their only use is genocide. In the age of nuclear proliferation, the top brass creates weapons like Metal Gear in the hopes that they will never be used."

"You think they're made so they'll never be used?"

Snake shrugged. "Maybe not always. But I'd be willing to bet it's how our predecessors thought. Metal gear, us? Same thing. Weapons of war. Created in the name of peace."

* * *

 _In the name of peace_  
 _They waged the wars_  
 _Ain't they got no shame?_  
\- Nikki Giovanni (on Hitler and Mussolini)

 _We applied our might in the name of peace._   
\- George W. Bush

* * *

**Epilogue**

Several hours later, Revolver Ocelot stood. Snake and Otacon were long gone.

He pulled out a cell phone and dialed a number. "The mission is complete." He brushed his clothes off reflexively and looked at the dead body of Tyler Durdan. "Yes, he's been disposed of." He looked at the computer. "Yes, I believe they will be..." He touched his twisted arm. "Yes. It suppressed the other one well. Only minor side effects." He shut the computer off and placed a device on Durden's chest. "No, I don't think that will be a problem."

Revolver Ocelot smiled.

"Yes. It will be done."


End file.
